


Good Deeds Punished

by katbear



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Explicit Language, Imprisonment, M/M, Non-Consensual, Rape, Rape Recovery, Sexual Abuse, Torture, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-01
Updated: 2018-12-01
Packaged: 2019-09-02 22:39:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 52,529
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16796068
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/katbear/pseuds/katbear
Summary: Qui-Gon finds that a good deed in his past comes back to haunt him with a vengeance.





	Good Deeds Punished

**Author's Note:**

> Italics indicate mental speech.  
> Thanks: To the beta readers who made this a better story (Merrie Amelie, Lady Saddlebred, MrsHamill). All mistakes are my own.  
> Story art is by Sian.  
> Story originally published in the July 2018 ConStrict zine. Thanks to Sian for all her support.

“Would you mind trying that again?” The healer sat, stylus poised over its datapad.

“Of course not.” A niggle of concern touched Qui-Gon over this fifth repetition, but he partially closed his eyes and sent a thought over his training bond. _Testing again, Obi-Wan. Can you hear me_?

_Yes, Master. A little fuzzier than usual, but I’m sitting in another office that’s further away. Do you know why they are doing this testing if they’re going to terminate the training bond today?_

_No idea. I’ll talk to you later._

“Almost the same result, Healer Betan. We could hear each other but a bit softer, not quite as clearly.”

“I see.” The healer made another notation. “We’re almost finished, but I need to discuss a few things with Healer Nlof first. It shouldn’t take long, so please have a seat in the waiting area.”

Obi-Wan was already sitting on one of the padded benches when Qui-Gon came in.

“Still no idea what is going on, Padawan,” said Qui-Gon as he sat next to Obi-Wan. “But I was told to wait here.”

“Same with me, Master.” Obi-Wan grinned. It seemed nothing was going to be allowed to dampen his spirits this day. “They probably want to get their last shot in before we head out to space as partners.”

They settled into companionable silence, each with his own thoughts about the upcoming long-anticipated events: Obi-Wan’s impending knighting in the morning and their bonding ceremony the following day.

Fifteen minutes later, a padawan healer asked them to return.

Healer Betan, Healer Nlof and Master Yoda were waiting for them. Qui-Gon raised an eyebrow as he and his padawan sat in the remaining two chairs.

“Is there a problem?” asked Qui-Gon. “This seems to be quite the gathering for a simple outbrief and sundering of our training bond.”

“Ah, about that…” Betan centered a datapad on its desk. “With Master Yoda’s assistance, we actually closed your training bond earlier today when you were both getting physicals. This meeting is to discuss our findings about what happened afterwards.”

“Or, rather, what did NOT happen afterwards,” added Nlof, gently waving his antennae.

Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan looked at each other for a moment, then Obi-Wan nodded slightly as if deferring to his master.

“Gentlebeings, I do not wish to be rude,” said Qui-Gon, “but you could not have ended the training bond. We can still communicate with fully articulated words, an ability that we have had since Obi-Wan was seventeen. It has always been my understanding that two beings can no longer do that unless the training bond is replaced by some other type of bond. We have not created any other yet.”

“Not always necessary is a Force-sustained bond. Conducted the removal of the training bond I did while distracted you both were. Gone it most certainly is yet speak mind-to-mind you can.”

Betan held up a hand. “Let me explain. We have been keeping an eye on you for quite some time because you had developed one of the most capable training bonds we have seen. You achieved the highest possible level, complete speech, which less than twenty percent of master-padawan pairs ever accomplish and you did it earlier than most as well.” Betan rubbed a finger on its upper lip for a moment. “The testing we did today was to confirm a theory. Approximately five to ten percent of both your species have latent telepathic abilities, an area both Healer Nlof and I have studied extensively. We believe that the training bond awakened that capability. Today we were able to confirm that and begin establishing how far you can communicate between you without relying only on the Force.”

“We’re telepathic?” Obi-Wan seemed bemused more than surprised. “That sounds exciting.”

Qui-Gon’s reaction was more practical. “How far can we talk? And can we still talk to each other if one or either of us cannot access the Force?”

“Today’s testing was quite basic, Master Jinn.” Nolf consulted his datapad. “We only went to six meters for speech and you reported no significant issues. After your bonding ceremony, we would like to conduct further testing of distance for both speech and awareness. It’s possible that adding a bond back in will enhance your capability, so it seems prudent to wait rather than have to repeat everything. And, although I am aware that it is an unpleasant experience, we can provide two Force-inhibitors for the testing.”

“That is very considerate and I do think it will be useful to know if we can speak under that duress.” Qui-Gon glanced at Yoda. “Master Yoda, do you have insight into our assignment schedule coming up?”

“Three days of leave you have been granted after the bonding ceremony. Four days for your next mission briefing and preparation will follow. Included in that four days is the mental communications testing on the first day from your leave you return.”

“Very well. I think I speak for both of us when I say that this is a surprising but not unpleasant bit of news. We look forward to seeing what we can do with it.” Qui-Gon ignored the smug ' _You bet we do_ ' that Obi-Wan sent as they rose to depart.

*** *** ***

The incredible high from promoting his padawan to knight and then forming a life bond with him was still very much with Qui-Gon Jinn as he moved sedately along the Temple halls. Although his outward serenity seemed to be undisturbed, inside he felt wrapped in a warm cocoon of love, the happiest he could remember being in years. Even the Force seemed to buzz with approval of this new dimension to his being.

 _Good morning, Qui-Gon_. An impression of an impudent grin drifted along the bond with his new mate.

_Good morning, Obi-Wan. It is good to see that you finally made it out of bed to attend the mission briefing._

_Look who’s talking. We spent most of three days in bed but you barely made it up in time to claim the first shower this morning_. Impression of a smirk. _It was a damned excellent three days, though_.

A tingle danced in Qui-Gon’s gut at the reminder of how they had employed their time off after the ceremony. He notched his control up a level to keep from broadcasting any of that very private emotion.

 _Twelve meters_! Obi-Wan stepped off a lift and waited for Qui-Gon to join him. _This is going to be great._

Qui-Gon let a slight indulgent smile tickle his lips. He had found that his new mate had been almost as excited about their freshly divulged telepathic abilities as his knighting. Obi-Wan had confessed late one night that he had been afraid they would lose that intense closeness and speech ability after the training bond was gone, a loss that was far more common than not. Instead, their new life bond seemed to enhance and reinforce their existing proficiency; the healers’ testing had established that they could now speak clearly to 100 meters and had full awareness of each other out to at least 1,000 meters. It was a boon in their private relations (he had to seriously tamp down the interest his cock took in that thought) and Qui-Gon was certain it would be a help on missions as well.

Obi-Wan met him at the door to the conference room and they paused a moment.

“Our first mission as partners instead of master and padawan,” said Qui-Gon softly.

“Yes. I’ve been looking forward to this a long time.” Obi-Wan nodded slowly. “I know the Force will be with us. I can feel it.”

“As do I. Shall we begin?”

Obi-Wan smiled, gestured for Qui-Gon to enter.

Master Yoda, Master Plo Koon and two other Jedi were already sitting at the table. Master Koon waved to the newcomers to join them.

“Welcome, everyone, on behalf of the Mission Committee.” Plo went around the table. “Master Qui-Gon Jinn. Knight Obi-Wan Kenobi. Master Noressa Lu, Knight Henver. Master Jinn and Knight Kenobi will be the primary field operatives for this assignment. Master Lu will be providing expertise in computer and communications systems. Knight Henver is analyzing traffic and communications patterns and will be assisting Master Lu with encryption systems.”

Plo waited a few moments for everyone to acknowledge the introductions. “We have a particularly disturbing mission to discuss today.” He punched a button on a datapad and it displayed a portion of the galactic map on the wall which showed three sectors in the Outer Rim and their neighbors in the Mid Rim. “During the last two years, we have lost four knights and one master-padawan team in this area under unusual circumstances. Two weeks ago, we lost another knight. All were on small commercial transports, most on covert missions. As far as we have been able to determine, the transports were most likely attacked in transit. Communications with each vessel abruptly ceased and none were seen again. We have not heard anything from any of the Jedi who were on those ships and we have had to assume that they are either imprisoned or dead. We do not believe that these disappearances are coincidences.”

“Do we have any clues or evidence at all about what might have happened?” asked Qui-Gon.

“Very little. Two ships using similar routes did report what might have been debris from damaged vessels, here… and here.” Two bright lights sprang up on the map. “In the most recent incident, three days after the knight failed to report, Republic military forces agreed to provide assistance. They sent a fast scout along the transport’s planned route with Knight Henver aboard.”

“We were able to locate a debris field in an isolated area not too far off the submitted route plan,” said Henver. He was a slender, brown-furred felinoid; he tapped a claw on the datapad and another light showed on the map. “There was a faint disturbance in the Force still lingering, colored by indications of violence. The material evidence was in small pieces; our analysis showed laser cannon scorching and explosives. We did find part of a transponder, enough to establish with about seventy per cent certainty that it was the ship we had been looking for.” He finished softly, “We found pieces of bodies, but no signs of life.”

There was a somber moment of silence.

Obi-Wan studied the map. “That area is pretty remote and the Republic does not have a strong presence. It's smaller than the size of the Hutt-controlled space, but I remember reading that there are a number of competing criminal enterprises in that region. Do we have any information on those or on significant Jedi deaths on any of the planets?”

“In the last five years, the number of individual gangs has fluctuated, but currently seems to be four. No deaths on planets in that area have occurred in over twenty years, only occasional injuries. After pooling information with Republic sources, indications are that three of the four gangs have sufficient space-capable vehicles to have carried out the attacks that killed our people. There are also a number of freelance ships in the area. We have not been able to determine what profit they might have been able to garner as only one of the transports had a cargo deemed worth the effort.”

“Of special concern are two things.” Yoda had finally stirred. “Why and how.”

“Yes,” said Plo. “Why now in these last two years, why in that specific area and why were Jedi seemingly targeted if there was no profit. How are our people being located with enough accuracy to find their transports in space and apparently destroy them.”

“The why clearly needs to be investigated.” Qui-Gon hesitated a moment. “The how, disturbing as this thought is, would seem to imply that there has been a leak or breach of our communications systems and/or security.”

“We believe this might be the case. Master Lu and Knight Henver will be working on that question, starting here in the Temple. They will be reviewing all personnel and systems that were part of communications sent to that region as well as support personnel who had knowledge of the assigned missions.” Plo nodded toward Lu and Henver. “You and Knight Kenobi will be operating covertly and separately, but with periodic meetings on designated planets to compare notes.”

“We’re the bait?” A grimace twisted Obi-Wan’s face as he voiced the obvious implication.

It was impossible to see a facial expression behind Plo Koon’s mask, but his tone was apologetic. “We want you to investigate, but, unfortunately, if Jedi are being targeted in that area, it is certainly possible that one or both of you may be attacked if there is a breach in our security. One of the precautions we are taking is setting up unique codes, both phrases and alpha-numerics, which only the six of us will have.” Plo pulled four data pads from a bag. “Your full mission briefing, including the new codes, is on these datapads, which all of you must return when Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan depart. None of them are capable of interfacing with a network. A generic version of the briefing, which includes information about cover roles and transport plans, is on our classified network with the usual security protocols. Access to that file will be closely monitored in case the internal networks are part of the potential breach. We will meet again in two days after all of you have had a chance to study the full briefing. Please bring your questions and suggestions to that meeting.”

*** *** ***

“Well, I can’t say this was how I expected our first mission together to go.” Obi-Wan took a sip of tea as they sat in their quarters on their last evening before heading out. “In fact, ‘together’ is quite a misnomer.”

“We do get to meet a minimum of three times on various planets, and I suspect there will be more visits if the investigation stretches out.”

“At least you get to be semi-presentable as a trader looking for ‘no questions asked’ cargos.” Obi-Wan snorted. “I am soooo looking forward to being a ‘hard drinking engine jockey’ on a small freighter. Nobody expects them to be clean, so I’ll have to look the part.”

“You do have the qualifications, though.” Qui-Gon grinned. “You know your way around an engine far better than I do, you have a remarkable capacity for alcohol and you already look quite charmingly scruffy since you let your hair and beard start growing out. I have no doubt that you will blend in well as you visit the most disreputable bars in search of information.”

“You are fortunate that I love you, my former master.” Obi-Wan leered. “I propose that we take full advantage of our last night before shipping out.”

“There is some merit in that proposal.” Qui-Gon pretended to ponder for a moment, then deliberately set his cup down. His eyes gleamed as he suddenly stood up. “Last one to the bed has to bottom first.”

*** *** ***

Qui-Gon pulled his boots off with a grateful sigh. Six weeks of tedious days and fruitless nights had yielded nothing helpful, at least on his part. He had actually managed to hook up with several small traders for whom he had arranged discreet transport of theoretically harmless boxes and bales – he'd let the Council worry about how to account for those minor profits. His presence on the current small transport vessel was directly due to his latest cargo transfer, which required more discretion in handling than earlier jobs and a classified message to the Temple that they should alert a certain planetary police system to potential incoming illegal drugs. The ship's crew had finished loading all of the varied cargos late that evening, stuffing the hold almost full, and the captain was waiting for clearance to take off.

Obi-Wan, on the other hand, had managed to dig up some tantalizing scraps of information about current gang activity. Word in the gutters and dive bars seemed to indicate that one of the groups had been expanding over the last year and might be in a fair way of either taking over or wiping out at least one, if not two, of their competitors. Nary a hint about Jedi being killed, but several rumors agreeing that there was a ruthless, hard-charging relative newcomer driving the gang that was making its mark.

Thoughts of his mate made Qui-Gon smile as he finished using the tiny bathroom and stripped to leggings and an under-tunic. They'd had one night together on this, their third planetary rendezvous, and had put it to very good use at a discreet hotel. Memories of their activities sent his hand down inside his leggings as he stretched out on the narrow bunk and made his dreams much sweeter after leisurely taking himself to an orgasm.

Three nights later, they were halfway to Qui-Gon's destination after a short stop on another planet to drop off and take on cargo and passengers. The Jedi master's meditations had been troubled by uneasy intimations of danger, so he had walked the corridors several times before finally retiring after midnight. He had only partially disrobed, keeping his boots on and lightsaber by his pillow.

Two hours later a raucous alarm sent Qui-Gon to his feet with 'saber in hand. The ship lurched and he staggered to the doorway and out into the hall. The lighting flickered, then changed to emergency red. Several other humanoid passengers were trying to maneuver down the passage as the ship pitched up and down once more, some with blasters in hand, one frozen in place and screaming. A felinoid in a crew jumpsuit pushed through with a snarling growl.

Qui-Gon held fast to the edge of the doorway and tried to assess the situation. He had heard explosions from the front of the ship, but they had not been the deep ship-rending booms that usually accompanied immediate carnage. The air was still good and the regular lighting was sporadically popping on and off. If this was not simply a ship malfunction, the next most likely possibility was pirates trying to disable the ship to get the cargo.

One step forward and a sharp turn to his left launched Qui-Gon toward the cargo hold.

After the first twenty feet there was nobody in the passage, so Qui-Gon advanced cautiously. The heavy air-tight hatchway door was closed. Indicator lights flashed green to indicate a safe atmosphere on the other side. Qui-Gon stopped and leaned against the door.

Qui-Gon quieted his breathing and closed his eyes. He reached out with the Force. Carefully probing, he felt definite life energies from at least three beings and a faint impression from a fourth. There did not seem to be any fear, only feelings of excitement and anticipation. Puzzled by his findings, Qui-Gon hesitated. He opened his eyes, checked the dim red-lit corridor behind him and ignited his lightsaber.

Swift fingers activated the door's control panel. The massive door grudgingly began swinging open. After waiting until it was completely clear, Qui-Gon cautiously stepped inside and quickly moved several steps to his right. A heavy darkness lay everywhere, broken only by the lights from the corridor and his 'saber.

Qui-Gon shut off his lightsaber and slipped sideways to the cover of the first stack of crates. He could not see or hear any movement, although he was still aware of at least three beings. Lighting had clearly been deliberately disabled and his opponents appeared to be experienced professionals. Until something moved, his options were limited, so he chose to try to give himself at least some small element of surprise. Qui-Gon carefully climbed upward – after his many visits to the cargo hold he knew that it was almost full but none of the well-secured stacks reached the ceiling.

Once on top, Qui-Gon carefully inched forward. He had to hang on to webbing straps as another distant explosion rocked the ship. Peering over the edge, he waited.

Eventually his patience was rewarded. Three beings in what appeared to be armored space suits casually strolled down the middle of the hold – two of them carried large drums. They stopped just in front of the doorway and set the drums down. The third began closing the heavy door.

When the door opening was just a narrow slit, the two who had set up the drums left. The last being stood between the drums and looked up.

"We know you're up there, fracking Jedi," boomed the staticky voice. He reached down to flip a switch on each drum. "Have a nice nap." A laugh echoed as he tossed an object which erupted in blinding white light as he slipped through the door and it slammed shut.

Qui-Gon had activated his lightsaber and leaped down as the first two suited beings started through the door. The brilliant light erupted as he reached the floor – he rolled to give himself a few precious seconds to regain his sight. Unfortunately, that was just enough time for the hatch to close and for clouds of gas to begin filling the air.

There was no chance to cut through the heavy hatch. Qui-Gon held his breath and dashed for the other door at the far end of the hold. Skidding to a halt, he found that a thick slab of metal had been welded over the hatch. As he forced the blade of his 'saber through the wall itself, three more nearby drums popped their tops and more gas began billowing out and over him. It became a race against time as Qui-Gon worked furiously to create an opening in the dense metal big enough to allow him to escape before his breath gave out. His 'saber sputtered and sparked, inch by hard-won inch, as the Jedi's lungs labored.

Half-way to success, the race was lost. Qui-Gon slumped to the floor. His lightsaber turned off and clattered away.

*** *** ***

Darkness.

That was Qui-Gon's first impression as his eyes cracked open. Quickly following were the smothering mental blackness that meant a Force-restraint collar, a throbbing headache, and a parched thirst.

The Jedi stirred, testing his environment. Hot. Chains clinked – between ankle cuffs, wrist cuffs, attached to the collar. Barefoot but a baggy coverall over his leggings and undertunic. A quick examination revealed a box surrounding him, almost long enough to stretch out, tall enough to get on hands and knees and two vents blowing air in from near his head. The smell was musty with traces of his own sweat, a few drops of which trickled down his face.

Next was his body. Nothing broken. No sore spots that might indicate bruising or internal injuries. The headache wasn't too bad if he ignored it. Being cut off from the Force was the most disturbing, but he resigned himself to dealing with the stuffy dissonance that dulled his senses.

It didn't take much thought to conclude that the cargo had clearly not been the main target of the pirates. The trap had been carefully prepared and skillfully executed. There was some small comfort in the fact that the Temple knew what ship he had been on and its course, but Qui-Gon was certain that he had fallen into the hands of those who had killed other Jedi in this region. He only hoped that word of his presumed disappearance made it to Obi-Wan so he could increase his vigilance.

The next few days were an exercise in endurance. At seemingly irregular intervals, there would be two thumps on the box and his neck chain would be tightened so Qui-Gon had to go up to his hands and knees. A tube would be extended toward his mouth and a flow of metal-tanged water would begin. Not seeing any point to possibly dying of thirst, Qui-Gon sucked down the offering until the tube was yanked back. Three times there were the gut-churning moments that indicated a hyperspace jump. Other than that, he meditated as best he could, moved around to try to retain flexibility and did his best to ignore the growing hunger and stench from his own sweat and bodily excretions which had no place to go except inside his leggings.

Eventually, there came a series of bangs and the odd floating sensation of being moved by anti-grav haulers. Twenty minutes later movement stopped, the box tilted as the lid was opened and Qui-Gon fell with a jarring thump. The sudden bright lights blinded Qui-Gon and he squinted. When he tried to sit up, an electro-rod was jammed in his ribs and he wisely stayed down as chains were removed and ropes were attached to his neck, wrist and ankle restraints, then pulled tight.

Qui-Gon lay, spread-eagled, blinking until his sight returned. There were five humanoid guards on the ropes, all clad in dark-gray pants, shirts and black belts and boots. There was another guard, older, left side of his face scarred, rank stripes on his sleeves and electro-rod in his hand. Off to one side there were four men with ship coveralls. There were two other men in civilian clothes – synthsilk shirts, dark trousers, shiny boots, electro-rods hooked to their black belts. Near the door was an avian humanoid in a green coverall.

One of the civilians seemed to be in charge. He was a handsome man with dark hair, an athletic build and cold, dark gray eyes.

"Great job, Captain Kroff." The man's voice was smooth, not quite Inner Rim, but clear with clipped vowels. "One live Jedi delivered intact as specified in the commission. Double bounty for your crew and you can keep the cargo that was on the ship. You're welcome to the ship, too, if you want it."

One of the jumpsuited men touched his three fingers to his brow. "Very generous, sir. We'll take the ship, thank you very much. Pleasure doing business with you again."

"As with you. Purser Shasshan will take care of you." He nodded toward the avian, then waited until Kroff touched his brow again and took his men to follow the avian out the door.

Qui-Gon had been taking mental notes, memorizing names and faces. He kept his expression neutral as the man took a slow trip around him, carefully stepping over ropes or behind guards, a gloating smile on his face.

The man stopped, hands on his hips. "Well, well. So this is the infamous Qui-Gon Jinn, high and mighty Jedi master. Don't look so impressive now, do you?" He wrinkled his nose. "Or smell so impressive, either." He quirked an eyebrow. "What, don't you remember me, you fracking son of a bitch?"

"You look familiar, but I'm sorry. No, I don't remember your name."

"Think back about twenty-two years. Backwater planet named Gavno. You busted some thieves, three of 'em, but you only managed to capture one. Young kid, just sixteen."

Qui-Gon looked closely as he searched his memories. "Brev? Brev Wortok?"

"Yeah, I'm the kid you handed over to the local cops." Brev stepped closer and put one foot on Qui's chest. His sneer was bitter. "They ran me through a joke of a trial and threw me in prison. A miserable fracking prison with some of the roughest SOBs in the sector."

"Wait a minute, I talked to the prosecutor and the social workers. You were a bright young man, no prior convictions. I went to a lot of trouble to try to get you assigned to a work prison where you could get classes and learn a trade."

"Oh, yeah, you really did me a big favor. After you left, they hauled me into the judge's office. He told me how the Jedi named Jinn was so interested in the poor little orphan. Turns out they didn't like Jedi, so they didn't honor whatever deal you thought you had."

"I'm sorry, I was trying to help. They told me you were going to a special place, a minimum security jail. I saw the papers."

Brev gave a huffed laugh. "The judge tore up the papers you saw, and told me they would make sure I went to a special place, alright. Jeered at me, he did, and told me to remember the name of that Jedi, because if he hadn't interfered they would have sent me to the local jail for a couple of years. Instead I got dumped into a hard-time prison for ten years." He pushed his foot down hard on Qui-Gon's chest. "Ten very long, very miserable years."

He walked around Qui-Gon again before stopping with hands on his hips. "Do you know what happens to a pretty boy in a place like that?"

Qui-Gon remained silent.

"I'll tell you what happens - you either find a protector real fast or you get gang-raped to death." Brev leaned over and spit on Qui-Gon. "I was one of the lucky ones. One of the baddest of the bad took a fancy to me, and I became his personal bitch." He paused, nostrils flaring as he laughed. "I suppose in a way you did do me a favor; it certainly was educational. I learned fast in that place, and came out with a long list of contacts and a lot of know-how on being a real criminal, not just a two-bit thief. I set out to make the big time, and I did it." He pointed a thumb at his chest. "People listen when I talk these days."

Brev put a foot on Qui-Gon's chest again, unhooked his electro-rod and put the end under Qui-Gon's chin. "I came out with something else, too. Would you like to take a guess what that was?"

Qui-Gon carefully nodded no. There was a very bad feeling in his gut by this time.

"I remembered one name," said Brev softly. "The one I cursed every night I lay there taking it up the ass or in my mouth, every time I was loaned out for favors, every time I had to sit at my owner's feet or follow him around like a dog. I remembered one name, and I vowed that I would make the Jedi pay for what you did to me, and most of all I vowed that I would find you." He pushed harder on electro-rod and smiled evilly. "And now I've got you, and you're going to find out what it was like, because you're going to be MY bitch. What do you think about that, Jedi?"

Qui-Gon was silent again for a moment, trying to think. "So you're the one who is responsible for all the missing Jedi in this sector?"

"You got that right. I'm the baddest badass in these parts now, and I intend to take a lot more of you bastards out before I'm finished." He pointed to the wall above two chairs on a dais – on it was a trophy frame with several lightsabers. "Yours is right at the top. And there's not a damned thing you can do about any of it."

"You know that is not something I'm going to do voluntarily, of course."

"That's half the fun." Brev gave an evil leer, then stopped and sniffed. "You fracking stink, Jedi." He nodded curtly to the guards. "Get him cleaned up, and trim that hair like the picture I showed you. I'll be back later."

The guard with stripes on his sleeve warily approached Qui-Gon, electro-rod in one hand. "Listen up." He made sure Qui-Gon was looking at him before continuing. "We need to get some things straight. I am Sergeant Dnaz. I will be in charge of your well-being and security for now. First, try to escape or hurt any of my men and you will be punished. Second, if you do not cooperate, you will be punished. Third, that door is the only way out of this room – only Mr. Wortok and Mr. Jhochn have a direct controller for it. The rest of us have to use the password panel, so it won't do you any good to try to kill us. Outside that door is a hallway that is under twenty-four hour surveillance. So far, so good?"

Qui-Gon looked at the door, then back at Dnaz. He nodded.

"I know that you Jedi are still pretty damned good fighters even without that Force shit. So in case you get any funny ideas, that collar you're wearing also has a shock field in it." Dnaz held up a small box. "All of my people have controllers for it. I'm going to give you three seconds at the lowest setting just so's you know I ain't shitting you about it." He held the box up and pressed a button.

Qui-Gon jerked at the sudden electric shock that ran through him. It seemed to last a lot longer than three seconds and he was panting when it stopped.

"I promise you that was the lowest setting and that we will crank it higher if you try to pull anything. You got that?"

"Yes. I understand."

"Good. I am a fair man and the boss is particularly keen on making sure his new property is taken care of properly, so if you behave, we'll get along fine, and I will be ensuring that none of my people take undue liberties." Dnaz nodded to his men. "Get him up and let's get to work."

The ropes attached to his wrist cuffs and one of his ankle cuffs were removed. The ropes on his collar and one ankle were slackened as he stiffly made his way to his feet. Dnaz motioned him toward the corner at the back of the large room. At a shower with a grated panel in the floor, Qui-Gon's wrists were chained to an overhead bar.

Qui-Gon was disgusted by his own stench, so he was almost happy when his clothes were cut off and his body was scrubbed down and hosed off. He wasn't so thrilled about the depilatory that was applied everywhere except his face and head. The guards were careful to handle him impersonally.

As he was being cleaned, Qui-Gon had a chance to look around his new prison. It was a long room, at least thirty feet by twenty. The lightsaber trophy case was on the right side of the door; the dais underneath it was about six feet long with two comfortable chairs and a small table with a coldbox underneath between them. On the other side of the door, the walls came out in an 'L' shape that looked like it might have a room on the other side of the walls – there was a large screen in the wall facing the dais below the trophy case. Next to that was a prison-type cell with bars, two narrow beds, sink and toilet. Near the cell was a medium cage on wheels, then a small cage on wheels, then the shower area. Along the back wall, about eight feet from the shower, was a treadmill, weight machine and exercise mat. The rest of the back wall was blank except for hooks and chains. The far end of the room held a large table with almost two dozen chairs, while the middle of the room had a heavy metal frame with hooks for cuffs, a padded gymnastics horse that was shorter and broader than usual, and some boxes. He was pretty sure he didn't really want to know what might be in those boxes.

After the shower, Qui-Gon's beard was closely trimmed and his hair was cut relatively short on the sides just over his ears. A single plait in back was wrapped in a leather sheath. Qui-Gon realized that was how he had looked as a young knight around the time when he captured Brev.

After a final comparison of a flatpic to Qui-Gon's head, Dnaz stepped back and motioned to his men. The naked Jedi was taken to the steel frame in the center of the room. Facing the door, his hands were chained overhead to the corners of the frame. The guards pulled back to a ten-foot semi-circle.

The room was silent as everyone waited. Qui-Gon contemplated his situation. He had certainly accomplished part of his mission and had already gotten some useful information. He stared at the lightsabers in the trophy case on the wall as he thought about what Brev had said. He allowed himself a tiny sigh; he needed to get more information, then survive long enough to find a way out of here. His gut churned uneasily as he anticipated his likely treatment.

Brev and his companion finally returned. Brev walked slowly around Qui-Gon before returning to stand in front of him and look him up and down.

"Hard to believe I've finally done it." Brev smiled at his companion. "Ah, where are my manners? Qui-Gon Jinn, former Jedi master, this is my deputy and very close friend, Gerdeth Jhochn. Gerdeth, this is my new bitch."

Gerdeth nodded slightly. "Pleasure, I'm sure." He gave a wolfish grin. "Well, maybe not your pleasure." He was slightly shorter than Brev, with a broader, solid build, light brown hair, black eyes and a scar under one eye.

Brev moved forward to within four feet of Qui-Gon. "I've waited a long time for this, Jedi, and you don't know just how much I've been looking forward to this."

Qui-Gon just looked at him, staying silent.

"So we're going to play the stoic Jedi master game, are we?" Brev smiled. "That will make it all the more delicious when you finally give in to me.

"Why should I do that?"

"Aside from the fact that you think you will be able to find out how I am finding and killing other Jedi, I will eventually find a motivation that you will find sufficiently compelling." Brev paused, tilted his head slightly. "We shall do this by degrees, I think. We will start with the simple things, physical discomfort and such, and only ask for small things in the beginning, like cooperation in not fighting the guards, taking your exercise, etc. My motivation in prison was staying alive and in one piece, but somehow I don't think that will quite do it for you. When I find the right motivator, we'll move on to bigger things, and you will eventually heel to my leash and offer that delectable ass and mouth of your own accord."

"That may take a while."

"I have all the time in the world, Master Jinn. I intend to keep you in good condition so you will be able to serve me for many years to come." Brev grinned. He walked around behind Qui-Gon and fondled his ass. "In the meantime, there isn't a damned thing you can do if I wish to sample the goods." He barked a laugh as he went back to the front. "At the moment, however, I have work to do." He snapped a finger at the guards. "Be a good boy, Jedi; you will be punished if you are not. And don't get any silly ideas about starving yourself to death or other nonsense." He looked at Dnaz. "Put him away in the small cage. We'll see how he likes that for a while."

The guards put a diaper on Qui-Gon, chained his wrists and ankles together. He shuffled over and was stuffed into the smallest cage, with barely enough room to lie down scrunched up or on all fours. A heavy cloth went over the cage and he was left in darkness.

Based on how often he was given water and dry ration biscuits, Qui-Gon decided he was in the cage for three days. He tried to pull his consciousness into his inner self in a partial meditation; his faith was in the Force and his hope was that Obi-Wan did not end up sharing his fate or death. There was no position that was comfortable; he sweated in the heat and was thoroughly miserable. Despite doing whatever shifting and isometric exercises he could manage in the limited space, Qui-Gon's muscles tightened and he suffered an occasional cramp by the end of the second day. He was relieved when he was finally dragged out again and put on his feet. Swaying a little and squinting in the bright lights, he saw Brev as well as Sergeant Dnaz standing well off with the shock-collar controller in his hand.

"How are we doing today?" Brev waited a moment before smiling. "What, not in the mood to talk? Clean him up, boys."

While the guards stripped and washed Qui-Gon, including an enema, Brev and Gerdeth sat at the big table eating and watching. Qui-Gon stoically endured and kept his gaze focused upward.

Qui-Gon was put back in the frame. His arms and legs were chained and stretched tight. A heavy leather strap went around his upper waist and was also tightly fastened to the frame. A woman in white pants and smock entered the room carrying a large case.

Brev sauntered over while Gerdeth went to sit in one of the chairs on the dais. "Today, Jedi, you are getting my ownership marks. Treeva is quite good at this sort of thing." He waved vaguely at the woman. "I strongly suggest you not move while she works." Brev smirked before joining Gerdeth on the dais, sitting in the other chair as Gerdeth opened two containers of ale.

"I don't use anesthetics," said the woman curtly. Qui-Gon quickly opened his mouth so she could put in a thick rubber mouthguard; it tasted faintly of disinfectant. She set up her case on drop-down legs, opened it and set to work with never a further word.

The tattoo needle gun came out first. Semi-circles above each nipple spelled out "JEDI" and "BITCH". At the base of his spine went two lines, which from the needle's action Qui-Gon determined were two lines that said "BREV'S" and "BITCH".

Qui-Gon breathed, in and out, slow and gentle, letting pain wash through him and diminish.

Next was a bigger needle - silver rings went in Qui-Gon's nipples, followed by a matching ring through the end of his penis.

Treeva pulled two round silver tags from a cloth pouch. She presented them to Brev – he inspected them and nodded. Treeva returned, pulled a mini-welder from her case and attached the tags to his collar. She flicked them a few times to hear the jingle.

Qui-Gon swallowed hard, letting his pattern of deep and light breaths still to slow, single breaths.

Brev came over to inspect the results. He took two trips around the frame before stopping in front. "Nice work, Treeva. There will be a bonus in your account."

"Thank you, sir." Treeva retrieved the mouthguard, packed up her case and left.

Qui-Gon relaxed slightly. He had grunted several times from the pain, but his breathing focus and biting down on the guard had helped him contain any other articulations.

"There, that wasn't so bad now, was it? And it does look very nice." Brev leered a bit as he stepped closer. "Tell me, Jedi, do you like your accommodations?"

"Not particularly."

"If you want to move to the next size up, the price is cooperation. I'm going to be quite reasonable, for now."

"What is the cooperation?" asked Qui-Gon cautiously.

"I want you to stay healthy, so your tasks include exercising daily, eating, drinking your water and keeping your cage clean of waste. The more you cooperate, the more privileges you will get." Brev raised an eyebrow. "See? Simple enough."

"It would seem so." Qui-Gon's tone was wary as he tried to ignore the pain of rings and tattoos.

"Give the guards any trouble at all, and it's back in the small cage."

Qui-Gon nodded.

"Very well. We'll start off nice and easy."

Qui-Gon was put on the treadmill for a thirty-minute slow jog. Sweat stung his new tattoos and piercings, but it also felt good to finally be able to move for a while.

Brev and Gerdeth watched from the dais, making occasional comments to each other. At the end of the jog, Qui-Gon was rinsed off and his wrists were chained behind his back. Dnaz sprayed something cold on the tattoos and piercings with a muttered, "antiseptic", and then he was put in the middle cage. This cage was large enough to fully stretch out and even sit up. Two bowls were bolted to the floor, one held water and the other ration biscuits.

Qui-Gon looked at the bowls, a muscle in his jaw jumping a little.

Brev came over to stand by the small cage and began tapping his fingers on top of it.

With no advantage to be gained from mulish obstinacy, Qui-Gon put his head down, ate four ration biscuits and drank some water from the bowls.

"Good boy." Brev smiled and left. Dnaz put a cover over the cage as soon as Brev as gone.

Over the next two days, Qui-Gon was taken out twice a day to exercise on the treadmill, do stretching or weights and relieve himself. He was washed down, fed, watered and sprayed with more antiseptic. There was always at least one extra guard with a controller in the room, but they kept a good distance away. With nothing else to do in the dark and no immediate threat of abuse, Qui-Gon had plenty of time to think. Those thoughts were mostly not good ones, but he still saw the mission and survival as paramount. He had already put the loss of Force contact behind him – the dulling of his senses might even be a bit of an advantage until he could find a way to get out. Qui-Gon began deciding on which mental exercises and shielding he could still effectively employ. He was very careful to limit the amount of time he spent worrying about Obi-Wan and dwelling on memories of his mate – that way was surely a slippery slope to depression and stress he could not afford.

On the morning of the third day, Brev returned. He looked at Qui-Gon in the cage after the cover was removed. "I hear you've been a good boy."

Qui-Gon didn't answer.

"Get him out. Put him to work."

Guards pulled the Jedi out of the cage. He was allowed to relieve himself before being put on the treadmill for a long, fast session. If he even looked like he was thinking of slowing down, an electro-rod touch kept him going. The dog tags jingled on his collar and his ringed penis flopped about.

Gerdeth joined Brev after the first twenty minutes. They lounged on the dais and chatted.

"Enough," called Brev. He and Gerdeth stood up and walked over while Dnaz put a leash on Qui-Gon's collar and began slowly walking him back and forth to cool down. As seemed now to be part of their standard procedure, at least one guard stood well away with a collar controller in his hand.

"Magnificent!" Brev smiled as Dnaz jerked the leash to pull Qui-Gon to a stop. Brev walked around a few times, then paused to let Dnaz back away to the full ten-foot length of the leash.

Brev leaned in to lick sweat from Qui-Gon's back. "Mmmm, definitely very nice." He ran a finger across the tattoo at the base of Qui-Gon's spine, then dropped his hand lower to fondle both ass cheeks.

Qui-Gon was working hard to keep his emotions at arm's length. He stared straight ahead, ignoring the fleshy tongue and wandering hand. The sudden hard intrusion of a dry finger into his ass caught him off-guard, though, and he swung an elbow.

Thirty seconds of writhing on the floor as pain radiated from the shock collar was a brutal reminder that he needed to work on his control. He lay panting when the agony stopped, although little shocks and tingles still ran along his nerves.

"Tsssk, tsssk. Such a bad boy." Brev shook his head. "Looks like it's back in the small cage for you. Sergeant Dnaz, please clean him up and put him away. I'll be back in three days."

The next three days were dismal ones. He was mostly in the dark, diapered, only occasionally fed and watered. Brev's invasion into his body and his reaction to it was a grim reminder of how much worse things were likely to get. Qui-Gon doggedly set about laying down the first of what he suspected would eventually be many mental shields. Every touch he remembered were the first bricks in that wall; every touch he knew would be forthcoming would add more.

The morning of the third day, the cover was whipped off the cage. Qui-Gon blinked until he could see again under the bright lights. Brev was standing, watching him.

"This was just a little reminder, Jedi." Brev snapped his fingers and the guards jumped to obey.

Qui-Gon was pulled out of the small cage. He staggered on his feet for several steps as Dnaz walked him over to the shower. He was cleaned inside and out, did several stretching exercises, then was put onto the treadmill for a long, steady run.

Brev sat in his chair on the dais and watched Qui-Gon running. Gerdeth came in and joined him – they turned their attention to each other and seemed to be discussing something intensely.

Another half hour, and the treadmill was finally stopped. Qui-Gon was led over to the metal frame; his arms and legs were loosely chained in place. He relaxed as much as he could, though the sweat running down his body was unpleasant and he was very thirsty since it had been many hours since his last drink of water.

"How are we doing today?" Brev had a mischievous smile as he waited a moment through Qui-Gon's silence. He shook his head and took a sip of something cold, flicking a bit of condensation off the rim of the glass. Brev ran the glass along the side of Qui-Gon's face. "Would you like some? No? Well, perhaps a bit later." His smile got wider as he handed the glass to a guard. "Let's start over, shall we?"

Brev licked sweat from Qui-Gon's face, then leaned down to take a long slurp of the tattoos above his nipples, 'Jedi' and 'Bitch'. He murmured comments to himself as he tweaked nipples, petted the dormant penis, played with rings in Qui-Gon's nipples and penis.

Qui-Gon steadfastly stared forward, staying as still as possible, putting every liberty into his memory to build mental and emotional protections. When Brev moved around behind him, Qui-Gon worked harder at trying to relax his sphincter. His caution was rewarded when he felt a tongue on his back, then a hand fondling his rear. A few moments later a cold, slippery finger entered his anus.

In and out. Each leisurely intrusion was another brick in the wall Qui-Gon was building inside his head to protect his emotions and sanity. Breathe in, breathe out. Ignore the tongue slurping across his back. Ignore the hot breath on his neck. A quick suck of the gut when teeth bit sharply into his shoulder. Breathe again.

Finally, the finger was withdrawn and a hand patted his rear. Qui-Gon felt Brev move around to face him.

"That's my good boy," leered Brev. He took his glass back from the guard and sipped twice. "It is going to be so delightful to break you." Brev held the glass up to Qui-Gon's lips and tilted it up so Qui-Gon had to drink or let the liquid run down his chin. He fed two ration biscuits to the Jedi, then gave him another drink. "You're learning. Sergeant, clean him off and put him in the medium cage."

Qui-Gon was taken out of the frame, hosed off and put back into his solitary enclosure. He settled in to try to rest.

*** *** ***

“You! Heads up,” growled Dnaz.

An electro-rod banging the bars of his cage jolted Qui-Gon out of his doze. He cursed as he realized he had allowed himself to drop into the complacency of thinking that three-day periods of isolation were a norm and this was only his second day back in the medium cage. He had been fed a few hours earlier and wasn’t expecting this disruption. He reminded himself to stay alert as he wondered what was going to happen.

A leash was attached to his collar and he was prodded forward out of the cage. He had already developed the habit of checking for the locations of the guards and the presence of Brev. This time there were four guards, one standing off as usual with the collar controller, but no sign of Brev, or at least, not yet. If this ordeal was to last for an extended length of time, he had a faint hope that eventually the guards might get careless and provide an opportunity for a potential escape.

Qui-Gon was directed into a series of stretching exercises, then put on the treadmill again. He kept to a steady, moderate pace and had worked up a sweat by the time Brev and Gerdeth arrived. Qui-Gon ignored their presence for the most part as they sat on the dais chairs and had a few drinks.

Brev and Gerdeth eventually stood up, which apparently was the signal for the guards to stop the treadmill. Dnaz pulled Qui-Gon’s leash and led him over to the center of the room where Brev was standing rather than putting him in the metal frame.

“Ah, my bitch is looking good this evening.” Brev walked around Qui-Gon, ducking under the leash Dnaz was holding stretched out to its full ten foot length. He licked sweat off Qui-Gon’s back before coming around to the front again.

Qui-Gon could smell alcohol on Brev’s breath as he leaned in to kiss Qui-Gon’s lips. Qui-Gon held very still, forcing himself not to react as his captor fooled around with the rings in his nipples and penis.

“Still playing the game, I see.” Brev pulled Qui-Gon’s head down and nibbled on his ear. He whispered, “Business has been very good lately, very good indeed, so I don’t mind. You’ll be begging to suck my cock soon enough.”

Qui-Gon clenched his jaw as Brev moved around behind him and finger-fucked him again. He was very wary of what Brev’s good mood meant, with a feeling that it did not auger well for him. He focused on his breathing and adding more bricks to his inner wall.

Finally, Brev stopped and wiped his finger on Qui-Gon’s rear before facing him again.

“You’ve been a good boy. That gets you a reward. Have a treat.” Gerdeth held a small tray for Brev, who picked up a slice of roasted meat. He fed that slice and two more to Qui-Gon, followed by a small piece of a roasted orange vegetable. Brev let Gerdeth give Qui-Gon several drinks from a bottle of what tasted like fruit juice.

“Get some sleep tonight, Jedi.” Brev’s smile was far too self-satisfied as he patted Qui-Gon’s penis. “You’re going to be needing your rest.” He grinned, he and Gerdeth laughed and punched each other on the shoulder as they headed for the door.

Qui-Gon was cleaned up and put back in the medium cage, which now held a pillow and blanket. His dreams were not happy ones as he tried to avoid thinking about the meaning of Brev Wortok’s good mood.

*** *** ***

Several hours after his morning feeding the next day, Qui-Gon judged it was late afternoon when five guards, Brev and Gerdeth came back. Qui-Gon was leashed, then pulled out and put on his hands and knees in front of Brev.

“This, my bitch, is called a humbler.” Brev had a wide smile and seemed to be in a very exuberant mood. He held up a device which looked like two pieces of wood, each with two curved sections, a round opening in the middle and large bolts with wingnuts holding the pieces together. He opened the wingnuts, pulled the wood sections slightly apart and handed it to Dnaz. “It won’t hurt if you don’t do anything stupid.”

It turned out that the curved sections went against the backs of Qui-Gon’s thighs. Dnaz reached under him and pulled his testicles back through the opening in the middle, then screwed the wingnuts down tight. He pushed Qui-Gon forward a few feet.

Qui-Gon sucked in a breath as he moved. Brev had been right – it didn’t hurt, at least not much, if he took short, careful movements on his hands and knees. Any movement toward trying to stand up, however, brought an immediate notice that standing was definitely not a good thing if he wanted to keep his balls attached to his body.

“Aptly named, don’t you think? Just the thing for a stuck-up, oh so high-and-mighty Jedi.” Gerdeth laughed at Brev’s comment. Brev’s mood seemed to be getting more ebullient as Dnaz slowly walked Qui-Gon back and forth.

Qui-Gon felt the pull with every step and moved carefully. Of more concern to him, however, was a growing feeling of disquiet fed by Brev’s growing gleefulness. That disquiet also seemed to reflect a burgeoning sensation in his head, one that was so tantalizingly familiar that Qui-Gon refused to even consider that it could be happening.

A beep from a communicator sounded. Brev pulled it off his belt, listened to a tinny voice, and his smile got almost impossibly broad. He put the communicator back.

“I have excellent news, my bitch.” Brev knelt down beside Qui-Gon. “I’ve got something you might be interested in.”

The familiar sensation in Qui-Gon’s head was muffled, but getting stronger. No, he thought, no, it can’t be. Please, please let it not be that.

Brev stood as the door opened.

Qui-Gon’s heart sank in despair as several guards dragged Obi-Wan in. He was dressed in dirty coveralls, a Force-restraining collar was welded around his neck, his eyes were blindfolded and his hands were manacled behind his back. A guard slammed Obi-Wan back against a wall and two of them held him upright, his head lolling.

“I think you know this pretty boy, don’t you master Jedi?” Brev laughed. “Wake him up!”

A guard threw a bucket of water over Obi-Wan. The young knight shook his head groggily.

Qui-Gon tasted bile crawling up his throat, but retained enough presence of mind to throw together a plan of sorts, incredibly grateful for the gift of telepathy.

_Obi-Wan. Listen to me, Obi-Wan._

Obi-Wan stood a little straighter.

_Disown me, Obi-Wan. Curse me. Tell them you hate me._

_Wha…. Where_ … Obi-Wan shook his head.

_We’re prisoners. They have to think you hate me. Curse me. Disown me. Please, Obi-Wan, listen to me._

_Why? What’s going on?_

_Talk later. Don’t let them know about us. Just play up to me. Please, Obi-Wan._

_Okay._

Qui-Gon crawled a few feet toward his former padawan. “Obi-Wan, are you alright? Have they hurt you?”

“I’m fine… I think.” Obi-Wan shook his head. “What the fracking hell mess have you gotten us into this time?’

“I didn’t… it’s not my fault.”

“Right. It’s never your fault, is it? But somehow I end up getting caught in your stupidity or stubbornness.”

“The people who’ve been killing Jedi… they captured us.”

“So what the fracking hell do you want me to do about it? Am I supposed to pull your nuts out of the fire again?” Obi-Wan’s cultured sneer was on full display.

Qui-Gon gave only a passing thought to how ironic Obi-Wan’s unknowing statement was at the moment. “We’ll figure something out. I’ll take care of you, Obi-Wan.”

“That sounds just lovely. Tell you what. I’m sick and tired of following along behind you and cleaning up after you. Why don’t you go fuck yourself?”

“But…but Obi-Wan. We care for each other. We’re going to be together…” Qui-Gon crawled forward another few steps.

“Give me a break, you washed-up old bastard.” The acid in Obi-Wan’s voice could curdle milk. “I only sucked up to you to get a knighthood.” He laughed. “You surely don’t think I’d ever let that monster cock of yours anywhere near my ass, old man.” He snorted.

“But…” Qui-Gon slumped, tried to sound as pathetic as he could. “You… me… us…”

“Just piss off. I’m taking care of myself from now on.”

Qui-Gon crouched low, staring up at Obi-Wan. He managed to get a tragic, stricken expression on his face.

“Well, well, a little falling out, eh?” Brev seemed to be highly amused by the whole situation. “Poor little Jedi master.” He sniggered. “Seems like one of you still has feelings, though.” He caressed Obi-Wan’s cheek, who jerked his head aside.

“What do you want?” Qui-Gon put a tiny tremor in his voice as he slumped even lower, almost cringing.

“You know what I want.” A guard handed Obi-Wan’s lightsaber to Brev. Brev slashed it across Obi-Wan’s face, opening a big cut. He kneed Obi-Wan hard in the crotch and smiled as Obi-Wan writhed on the floor spewing profanities. Brev knelt next to Qui-Gon and tapped his shoulder with Obi-Wan’s lightsaber. “And if I don’t get it, your pretty little boy will suffer.”

“How do I know you won’t hurt him anyway?” Qui-Gon dared a look at Obi-Wan and let his pain and misery show.

“The pretty Jedi is my insurance. I’m not going to let him sit around on his ass, that’s not cost-effective, so he’ll go out with the work crews and and earn his food.” Brev gestured toward the wall with the screen. “At night, he’ll be right next door.” Brev waited until two guards had removed Obi-Wan and put him into a cell on the other side of the screen. “See, all safe and sound. For now. If you are a very good boy, I might even let you see him occasionally.” Brev put Obi-Wan’s lightsaber under Qui-Gon’s chin and forced his head upward. “So, what’s it going to be?”

“It seems I have no choice.” Qui-Gon looked down, shivered a little.

“That’s a good bitch.” Brev waved away all of the guards except Dnaz. He petted Qui-Gon’s head. “My good little Jedi bitch.”

Brev and Gerdeth went to the dais and sat on the chairs.

“Now it’s time to start paying me back for that wonderful good deed you did for me twenty-two years ago. Your first act of obedience, my bitch - come here and serve me.”

Qui-Gon glanced at the screen, then steeled himself. He took a deep breath and crawled to the dais, the leash attached to his collar loose beside him.

“Up here, bitch. Kiss your new master.”

Qui-Gon crawled between Brev’s legs and carefully knelt up, mindful of his trapped balls. He kissed Brev’s crotch.

Gerdeth laughed. Qui-Gon risked a peek sideways; Brev’s friend was watching avidly. “He doesn’t look very enthusiastic. Maybe he needs the real thing.”

“Good idea.” Brev opened the fly of his pants and pulled his cock out. “Pay your respects, bitch.”

Qui-Gon glanced over to where Obi-wan's blood was still on floor. He kissed the cock, well aware of Dnaz standing in the center of the room with a controller in his hand.

“I'm feeling generous, so I’m going to let you show your gratitude for being my bitch. Suck it, bitch.” Brev added in a dark growl, “Think real hard about what will happen to the pretty Jedi if you bite.”

Swallowing back bile, Qui-Gon closed his eyes and leaned forward. He opened his mouth and set to work. He licked the length, sucked the tip, brought Brev’s cock to hardness. He focused on not throwing up as he worked, trying ignore the skin under his tongue, the musky odor in his nostrils and the hand that settled on his head to urge him on.

As Brev neared orgasm, he forced Qui-Gon’s head closer, almost gagging him as bitter salt fluid exploded. He made Qui-Gon hold his softening cock in his mouth until it was flaccid again.

“Clean it, bitch.”

Qui-Gon carefully tongued off all traces of the orgasm, then sat back, shoulders hunched, to ease his aching balls, still trapped in the humbler.

“Nice job, bitch. You shall be rewarded.” Brev stood up and grabbed Qui-Gon’s leash. He pulled Qui-Gon over to the cell. “This is exactly the same dimensions and furnishings as the cell I was in for ten years, except you get bars for walls. As long as you are good, you will be allowed to live in here instead of one of the smaller cages.” He petted Qui-Gon’s head as Dnaz removed the humbler. He stepped back out of the cell and watched as Dnaz locked a chain to Qui-Gon’s collar.

Dnaz put fresh food and water in the bowls set near the door. The cell door clanged shut, he double-checked the lock and then followed Brev, Gerdeth and the other guards out of the room.

Qui-Gon checked the length of the chain. He could get to the bed closest to the wall, the toilet and the two bowls, but not to the sink or the second bed. He got some water to wash his mouth out, then settled on the bed, sick at heart, his gut still churning and his balls aching.

He put one hand through the bars to touch the wall that separated him from his mate on the other side, needing but almost dreading the conversation coming up.

*** *** ***

_Obi-Wan?_

Silence seemed to stretch forever but in reality was far less than a minute.

_I'm here. I'm not sure where 'here' is. Are you alright? Your ship never showed up at its destination, but the scout ship they sent couldn't find any wreckage along its flight route._

_I'm fine. My ship was attacked by pirates. They didn't destroy the ship. I had gone to check out the cargo compartment, but they flooded it with sleeping gas of some kind. When I woke up I think I was on a ship, but ended up here._

_Sounds familiar. They attacked our ship, too. Punched holes in the hull and flooded the whole ship with gas. Next thing I knew was when I woke up and heard you in my head._

_Are you alright?_

_A little roughed up. Face got cut pretty bad, but they slapped some kind of cream on it and the bleeding has stopped. Balls are damned sore… asshole had a very sharp knee. What about you, though? And what was all that about pretending I hated you?_

_It's a bit of a long story_. Qui-Gon debated about how much to tell Obi-Wan. He needed to have some idea of what was going on, but he didn't want his lover to worry too much about him. _I don't where 'here' is, either, but I have a name for the person who's been hunting down Jedi._

Qui-Gon spent a few minutes telling Obi-Wan about Brev Wortok's apparent ascendancy to leadership of a growing criminal enterprise. He mentioned the lightsabers in the trophy case, but not some of the other things in the room, thankful that Obi-Wan had been blindfolded.

There was a thoughtful silence for a few minutes.

_So, it sounds like we've found the Jedi hunter, but not how he's finding out where Jedi are. They were waiting for us when we came out of the jump, so he must have some source of information._

_I agree. We need to try to escape, though, with the information we do have. We should be able to find out where we are if we can get out of these cells. I heard Brev say you would be sent out with work groups during the day, so perhaps you'll be able to get some useful information._

_Mmmhmmm._

There was another silence. Obi-Was was a very bright young man, and Qui-Gon was waiting for the other boot to drop.

_Qui-Gon. I'm still confused about two things. Why is this Wortok apparently killing Jedi but left the two of us alive? And you still haven't told me why I was supposed to pretend to hate you._

_Ah, yes._ Qui-Gon worried at a tooth. _Brev Wortok hates Jedi because when he was sixteen, a Jedi knight caught him in a burglary. The Jedi tried to intervene to make sure the boy was sent to a low security prison for a few years where he could get classes, but the local judge didn't like Jedi and sent the boy to a security prison with hardened criminals for ten years. It was a difficult time, he blames the Jedi and vowed to get revenge_

_You wouldn't, by some incredibly remote chance, be that anonymous Jedi?_

Qui-Gon winced. He could hear that refined sarcastic drawl even through the telepathic link. _Ummm, well, yes. I was trying to do the boy a favor. It apparently back-fired._

_So this is personal for him._

_Very. He wants revenge on me, Obi-Wan. I'm pretty sure he knows you were my padawan, so I didn't want that bleeding over to you._

_I see._

There was yet another silence.

_Qui-Gon. I'm not naive. Or stupid. I know what goes on in those kinds of prisons, especially to younger prisoners. What is that son-of-a-bitch doing to you?_

_Actually, not much of anything so far. I'm in a cell, but he wants me alive for a long time so I get let out to exercise and have adequate food and water._

_That's good as far as it goes. I think I understand why you wished for them to believe that I wanted nothing to do with you – you wouldn't be the hostage for my behavior. But… it seems to me that I am now the hostage for your cooperation._

_Yes. But that also means they have to keep you alive. I won't deny, however, that I expect to be sexually abused going forward from here._ Qui-Gon ignored the twinge of conscience about not mentioning what had he had just been forced to do.

The muteness was very long this time.

 _What can I do to help_? Obi-Wan's words were infused with concern, a distress that leaked through the normal flatness of their telepathetic speech and which Qui-Gon could detect despite the lack of access to their Force bond.

 _The best thing you can do is to keep your ears and eyes open whenever you are outside your cell. Find out everything you can that might help us escape and that might help us break this gang_. Qui-Gon paused, had to take a deep breath. _I know this will be difficult, but I think it best if we don't speak too often. Our ability to speak telepathically is our hidden advantage, but it will take me much effort to maintain the internal protective shields I've started already. It will be harder without the Force, but I can keep those walls up if I stay focused._

_I understand. We'll find a way out. I love you._

_I love you, too. Let's get some rest._

Qui-Gon pressed his fingers against the wall once more, then sighed before lying back on the bunk. Sleep proved to very elusive that night.

*** *** ***

The next two days were uneventful. Qui-Gon's new routine was to be taken from his cell twice a day, exercised, washed down, and returned to his cell where food and water was placed in the bowls. He sensed Obi-Wan being taken in the mornings and brought back in the evenings. They 'spoke' in the evenings and Obi-Wan passed on whatever information he had – they now knew that much of this level held prisoner cell blocks, the other twenty-some prisoners all had shock collars and there were at least two levels above this one. Obi-Wan had been working with a group excavating new tunnels, so it seemed Brev was planning on expanding his base.

During Qui-Gon's treadmill session at the end of the second day, Brev and Gerdeth had been served dinner at the large table while he ran. After he finished, Qui-Gon was taken to kneel beside Brev. Picking out morsels from his own plate, Brev fed them by hand to Qui-Gon, then gave him water from his glass. Qui-Gon was then taken over to be washed, inside and out.

Qui-Gon felt a bit of trepidation when he was led over to the padded horse instead of being returned to his cell. He grunted when he was shoved tight to the horse and bent over.

Brev and Gerdeth came over and stood behind him.

"Now that's a pretty sight." Brev stroked the healing tattoos. "My bitch. I've been waiting a long time for this." His hands moved down to fondle both globes of Qui-Gon's rear. "Such a nice ass, don't you think?"

"Absolutely. He's a strong one, should last you a long time."

"Indeed."

Qui-Gon flinched when a lubed finger entered him. Breathe, he chanted internally. More bricks for the wall.

The finger fucking went on for several minutes. "Damn, my bitch is nice and tight. Needs a little stretching. This should give him a nice start." Brev dangled an anal plug in front of Qui-Gon's face. "Better get used to this, bitch. You'll be wearing it a lot."

Cold lube went up Qui-Gon's ass, then Brev inserted the plug. A belt went around Qui-Gon's waist and between his legs to hold it in place.

"Walk him around."

Qui-Gon was led back and forth several times. The plug shifted with every step and it was difficult to keep his face neutral.

"Yeah, that'll do nicely." Brev laughed and slapped Qui-Gon's ass. "Put him away and let him think about that tonight."

That evening, Obi-Wan 'spoke' to Qui-Gon and filled him in his day's activities, mostly more excavating. Qui-Gon convinced himself that he didn't want to worry his mate unnecessarily, so he didn't mention the plug filling his rear.

*** *** ***

Late the next afternoon, Dnaz and two other guards came in. Qui-Gon had learned to get on his feet immediately, so he stood waiting. Dnaz looked at the food bowl, shook his head and pulled out his communicator. After a brief conversation, Dnaz unlocked the door, attached a leash and led Qui-Gon over to the dais.

"Kneel. Hands on your thighs." Dnaz waited Qui-Gon had complied before moving off to the full length of the leash.

The room was very quiet as they all waited. Qui-Gon's stomach was slowly twisting – he had found that changes in the routine were seldom good.

About twenty minutes later, Brev and Gerdeth came in. They sat on the dais chairs.

"I am told that you did not completely finish your breakfast." Brev's tone was cold and hard.

Qui-Gon kept his eyes down. "I wasn't very hungry."

"You need to keep your strength up. You will eat everything you are given or you will be punished. Also, I don't like your tone. You need better manners – address your betters as 'sir'. Do you understand that, bitch?"

Qui-Gon hesitated, then nodded.

"Not fast enough, bitch. You will obey immediately." Brev stood up and fished a leather strap from a pocket on the side of his chair. He moved behind Qui-Gon and began whipping him on the back and ass.

Qui-Gon grunted at the flurry of blows. He clenched his fists. Breathe. Breathe.

"Now do you understand?"

"Yes, sir."

Gerdeth held a ration biscuit in front of Qui-Gon's face. "You still not hungry, bitch?"

Qui-Gon looked at Brev, not sure what he was supposed to do. That was evidently a mistake, because Brev gave him another half-dozen lashes.

"Mister Jhochn is my right hand man. You will obey him as you would me. You got that, bitch?"

"Yes, sir."

"You want this, bitch?" Gerdeth held the biscuit near Qui-Gon's mouth.

"Yes, sir."

Four more blows, hard enough to draw another grunt from Qui-Gon. "Manners, bitch. Say 'please'."

"Yes, sir. Please, may I have it, sir?"

"Better." Brev nodded to Gerdeth, who fed the biscuit to Qui-Gon. "Sergeant, exercise my bitch."

Dnaz took Qui-Gon over to the treadmill, took out the plug, and put him through exercises and then a vigorous stint on the treadmill.

Food was brought in and Brev and Gerdeth ate at the table while Qui-Gon worked.

After his run, Qui-Gon was cleaned up. The lubed plug was inserted, his wrists were chained behind his back and Qui-Gon was taken to the table to kneel between the chairs of Brev and Gerdeth. For several minutes, the two men fed Qui-Gon meat scraps and portions of vegetables.

"That was very generous of you to feed him from our own dinner." Gerdeth pushed his chair back from the table.

"I think so." Brev looked down. "Did you like your dinner, bitch?"

"Yes, sir. Thank you, sir." Qui-Gon kept his eyes fixed downward.

"That's much better." Brev smiled at Gerdeth. "I think the bitch should pay for his meal."

"That's an excellent idea."

Both men opened their flies and pulled their cocks out.

"Blow jobs for each of us will do nicely. Get busy, bitch."

"Yes, sir." Qui-Gon took a deep breath and shuffled forward between Brev's legs. He licked and sucked, had his head forced down to suck Brev's balls and finally got Brev off. He almost threw up as he swallowed the bitter fluid. He had to repeat the performance with Gerdeth, although he preferred to spurt his semen over Qui-Gon's face.

Qui-Gon kneeled, head low, panting as both men laughed and made crude comments. He was almost grateful when Dnaz took him back, hosed him off again and locked him in his cell.

He spent much of the night working on his wall, knowing there was surely worse to come.

*** *** ***

The next night Qui-Gon was put back in the humbler after his exercise session; he was just glad he didn't have the plug inserted yet as Dnaz walked him back and forth on his hands and knees for Brev's amusement. Brev apparently also found it amusing to use Qui-Gon as a footrest during dinner with Gerdeth. Although it was a humiliating position, it did put Qui-Gon close enough to hear the conversations; unfortunately, very little of importance was discussed.

After they finished eating, Qui-Gon had to kneel between them again. The humbler was removed, but his hands were shackled behind his back instead. He was fed by hand, this time some sort of roast, mashed tubers and a very spicy vegetable. Two blow jobs were the cost of his meal. Whatever spice had been on the vegetable did not mix well with humanoid semen; Qui-Gon had a horrible aftertaste in his mouth all night, although that did distract him a little from the larger anal plug in his rear.

_Qui-Gon?_

_Are you alright? It's much later than usual._

_I'm fine, just tired. We were loading supplies and munitions on ships all day. They have a huge underground hangar. I counted at least a dozen ships, mostly small to medium modified freighters. There was a lot of empty space, though, that looked like it was in use but the ships just weren't there right now._

_That is excellent progress. Were you able to identify any ship names?_

_Only a few. But the bits of conversation I overheard sounded like there was a raid coming up soon. And I've made a few friends among the other prisoners; the guards don't seem to care if we talk when they feed us. One of them was an engineer. He was ticked off because he'd been pressed into laying down power lines in the duct system and he was complaining about the shoddy materials and dirt in the ducts. He mentioned that there was a computer room of some sort on the same level as the hangar – if I can get more information on the location I might be able to locate and hack some files once we get out of these cells._

Qui-Gon admired Obi-Wan's positive approach to their potential escape, but he viewed it as more of a hope than a given.

_Keep up the good work, but don't take unnecessary chances._

_I won't. How are you doing?_

_We've gotten to oral sex, but Brev doesn't seem to be in big hurry to go further than that. At least, not yet._

_Are you sure I can't do more to help?_

_I'm handling things, but I appreciate the thought. Love you._

_Love you too. Take care._

Qui-Gon lay on his bunk for quite a while before he was tired enough to ignore his emotional state, the foul taste in his mouth and the plug in his butt and fall asleep. He was feeling guilty about the things he wasn't telling Obi-Wan and he was pretty sure his mate suspected he was doing that. But Qui-Gon didn't need the Force to know that were almost certainly worse things to come; he had convinced himself that he couldn't afford to let his love for Obi-Wan be a distraction if he was to build and hold strong enough walls to ward off the coming pain.

*** *** ***

Three and a half days passed by with twice-a-day rounds of exercise, washing, re-inserting an anal plug and feeding. Between sessions, Qui-Gon had little to do in his cell but think and work on his walls, adding bricks for every session and now focusing more on distancing his internal self from what was done to his body. He was satisfied with his progress, although he certainly intended to keep adding to and maintaining his shields, but boredom was starting to become an issue. Qui-Gon began casting about for ways to solve that problem.

The evening of the fourth day tested the strength of those walls. Brev and Gerd came in as dinner was being set on their table. Brev was clearly in a bad mood, snarling at guards and servants alike, even snapping at Gerdeth once, who replied in kind.

Qui-Gon was just being taken off the treadmill and had moved to the shower. Dnaz stood warily awaiting instructions, hose in hand.

"Dammit, clean the bitch. No plug, put him in the humbler and get his fracking ass over here."

"Yes, sir." Dnaz and the other two guards jumped to comply, completing their tasks in record time.

Qui-Gon was practically carried over and deposited at Brev's feet, where he crouched to ease the pull of the humbler on his balls.

"You, under the table, now."

"Yes, sir."

Qui-Gon crawled under the table and quickly moved between Brev's legs at an impatient gesture.

"Keep my cock in your mouth until I tell you otherwise."

Qui-Gon complied, holding the flaccid organ in his mouth. He breathed through his nose as Brev and Gerdeth ate, complained and argued.

The conversation was more interesting than usual. The gist of it seemed to be that a recent raid had not gone well, they needed to recruit more troops, everything for ships, construction and other expenses cost too damned much and one of the other gang leaders in the region was getting too uppity and needed to be put in its place.

Qui-Gon was taking mental notes, especially about anything involving names and places, and didn't react quickly enough when Brev moved his chair. The cock slipped out and Brev angrily kicked Qui-Gon hard enough to put him on his side.

"Stupid bitch." Brev stood up. "Make yourself useful." He grabbed Qui-Gon's collar and, with Gerdeth's help, dragged him to the padded horse. He took off the humbler, bent Qui-Gon over the horse, and chained his wrists and ankles so he was bent over it with his legs spread.

Qui-Gon was pulling back into himself, frantically trying to get his muscles to relax, reminding himself to breathe. Cold lube was jammed into his opening, followed seconds later by a hard cock pushing into his ass. He grunted at the sudden invasion; the rape was even worse than he had feared… pain… humiliation… vulnerability… degradation… all these things he had to put aside.

Hands held his hips as Brev pounded into him. Vicious, angry thrusts, again and again, shoving him into the horse. Qui-Gon closed his eyes, let his mind retreat, breathe in, breathe out, it's only my body, it's not me. He wasn't sure how long it lasted, probably only minutes, but a final thrust and triumphant yell signaled the end.

"Damn, that was good." Brev hung on him for a few more moments before pulling out. "Leave him there."

Qui-Gon opened his eyes to see that Brev had already returned to the table, his fly zipped, a smile on his face. Qui-Gon breathed more slowly, trying to process what had just happened. His ass was sore, bruises were forming on his hips and he thought he felt semen dripping out. He'd been treated as an object, used and left to await his owner's pleasure. The wall got wider and higher.

Brev was definitely in a better mood now. He and Gerdeth had a leisurely dessert and seemed to be working on plans for recouping this recent loss. When they finished, they both got up and came over to where Qui-Gon was tied down.

"That is definitely one mighty fine ass. Got a fine set of balls on him, too. Big ones, nice and smooth." Brev fondled Qui-Gon's denuded ass and testicles, stroked the tattoos. He casually rested a hand on Qui-Gon's back. "You know what, that was so good I think I'd like a second helping. And I'm sorry I yelled at you earlier, so you can have the other end while I'm at it."

"That's very generous of you and I appreciate it. Thanks."

Qui-Gon groaned inside as he realized what was about to happen. He heard zippers opening, more cold lube was jammed into his anus and a hand under his chin forced his head up.

"Open up, bitch. Get me hard." Gerdeth forced his already growing cock into Qui-Gon's mouth.

As Qui-Gon began desperately licking and sucking to keep from gagging, he felt Brev's cock enter his ass. This time the pace was much slower as both men moaned and made crude comments, intent on prolonging their pleasure.

Qui-Gon closed his eyes, withdrawing even further into himself. He started his mantras again as he was penetrated from both ends, in and out. Breathe. Breathe. It's only my body. It's not me. Breathe.

Eventually the interminable abuse ended. Brev withdrew and Gerdeth spewed out his orgasm across Qui-Gon's face.

Brev walked around to the front, yanked Qui-Gon's collar up and leaned over so they were almost face to face.

"You feeling it yet, bitch?" sneered Brev. He used his thumb to smear cooling semen across Qui-Gon's lips. "That's just a little taste of what I had to deal with for ten fracking years. You're going to pay me back for every one of them with interest. You're going to feel what I felt. And I’m going to enjoy every minute of it." He held his cock in front of Qui-Gon. "Kiss it, bitch."

Qui-Gon extended his neck and kissed the head.

Brev wiped his cock off with Qui-Gon's hair, then tucked it back into his pants. "Clean him up and put him away, sergeant." He slapped Qui-Gon's ass with a laugh as he left.

Dnaz unchained Qui-Gon, helped him over to the shower, and supervised his cleanup. Back in his cell with a plug in him, Qui-Gon pulled a blanket over his head and curled in a fetal position as he tried to keep his mind blank.

*** *** ***

_Qui-Gon?_

_Qui-Gon, are you awake?_

Qui-Gon stirred groggily, pain in his rear reminding about his recent ordeal.

_I'm awake. What time is it?_

_Sorry, it's almost morning, but I just got back. We had to work most of the night cleaning out ships, moving supplies and stuff. Everyone was in a terrible mood. I heard that things went badly… they lost at least one ship and I saw damage on a couple of others. Are you alright?_

_Brev was quite ticked off when he came in last night. I overheard most of the conversation he had with Gerdeth as they ate. There are apparently a number of issues, not just one raid, but expenses and expansion. And some sort of problem with one of his competitors._

_Did he take out his bad mood on you?_

Qui-Gon let silence linger a little too long before replying. Yes.

_Are you going to tell me what's going on or do I have to sit here imagining the worst?_

_There was penetration. Just him. And a blow job for his deputy._

_Qui-Gon, there must be something more I can do to help. I can –_

_I'm handling things, Obi-Wan. I am a Jedi Master, dammit, and I know how to build a shielding wall. I can hold if I know you are safe and working on trying to find us a way out of here._

_I just… alright, I'm sorry. But I do worry about you._

_I know. And I'm sorry I snapped at you. But it does help a lot if I know you are safe._

_I understand. I'll keep my head down and try to stay inconspicuous as much as I can._

_Thank you. I love you, Obi-Wan._

_I love you, too._

*** *** ***

The next ten-day a new routine was established. The mornings were always the same; chain removed from his collar, plug removed, relieve himself, stretching or weight exercises, a stint on the treadmill, washing inside and out, plug back in, chained in his cell, food and water in his bowls. As always, Qui-Gon kept a surreptitious eye on the guards, especially any new ones, to check for any signs of complacency.

Early evening the routine was the same except when Brev and often Gerdeth had dinner at the big table, which was most nights. They liked to watch him run and when he was very sweaty, one or the other would feel him up, lick sweat or fondle various body parts. If it was just Brev, he would usually have Qui-Gon put over the horse so he could indulge in a long, leisurely fuck. Twice, Brev and Gerdeth sat on the dais drinking after they ate – once he had to fellate both of them, the other time Qui-Gon was put in the humbler and had to suck Gerdeth off while Brev watched and masturbated, gloating and making crude jokes.

At night, Qui-Gon lay on his bunk, trying not to think about what was being done to him. He allowed himself the single luxury of a short conversation with Obi-Wan, telling himself it was for Obi-Wan's benefit and to keep up on any progress he might have made. On those rare occasions he was completely honest with himself, however, he admitted it was almost a masochistic pleasure, and possibly a threat to his concentration, because he always had to force himself back into focus after each one. Shifting around on the bunk usually brought his situation quickly back to mind – an anal plug was hard to ignore when he moved.

Boredom was becoming a much more significant issue, if for no other reason than it was a dangling temptation to spend more time talking with Obi-Wan, a distraction he had decided he could not afford however guilty he felt about it. Even when Brev came in, Qui-Gon was typically spending over twenty hours of each day in his cell, hours which were feeling longer and longer.

He had a couple of ongoing projects, of course. Qui-Gon was keeping a running catalog of every scrap of information he and Obi-Wan could get – it was the one topic he allowed himself to discuss with his mate more than a few minutes. They had developed a picture of Brev's organization with names, ships, overheard bits of chatter about activities and recently the name of the planet they were on, Henos. They had a general idea of which region they were in and which system. The other important intel was Obi-Wan's reports on the base itself – he was becoming more and more convinced that they could use the duct system to work their way to the computer room and then the hangar, where they could steal a ship. Qui-Gon tried to be neither too encouraging or discouraging, but he was well aware of the stars that had to perfectly align for them to escape.

And there was the observing of the guards twice a day. The number varied each time, anywhere from three to six, and not always the same ones. Mornings generally saw the fewest guards since that was clearly regarded as a monotonous routine that their prisoner was highly unlikely to disrupt. Qui-Gon had determined that the more guards there in the evening, the higher the probability that Brev would show up. Usually it was four to six. The guards were all humanoids, mostly younger, in their twenties, except for one who was a glum character in his late forties. They all seemed to have other duties, their care of Qui-Gon being just one facet of their jobs. So far, he had not found any weaknesses he might be able to exploit, although the youngest guard seemed dimmer than the others and might yet prove to be a useful target.

Sergeant Dnaz was an enigma. He had consistently proved to be the most vigilant of his guardians, never faltering in his concentration. And he had proven true to his word – if Qui-Gon obeyed instructions, Dnaz made sure his people handled the prisoner impersonally, not even allowing anyone to try to cop a quick feel. Although normally quiet, he had spewed forth a remarkable amount of wickedly heated invective the first time two of the guards had tried to get in a surreptitious fondling of Qui-Gon's penis – after that everyone was very careful to keep their hands to themselves. Dnaz was the only one who handled the anal plugs of various sizes and their only interactions were terse instructions. He was difficult to read; despite his years of sizing up beings at various functions, Qui-Gon could not gain any indication of what was going on inside. Phlegmatic but efficient, he seemed to have built a reserve and an inner shield that would be the envy of most Jedi. Qui-Gon continued to watch in hopes of learning more.

After much thought, Qui-Gon decided to add a new project to fill some of his hours. He had often been an instructor at the Temple, and particularly enjoyed the courses dealing with philosophy or negotiating skills. It seemed a worthwhile use of time to plan a new course combining aspects of both. Perhaps he might even get to teach it someday. He set to work creating a first pass at a possible syllabus.

The evening of the tenth day Brev came in alone. He had Qui-Gon put on the horse and fucked him, then ate alone, scrolling through data pads as he ate. After he finished, he stretched, walked back behind Qui-Gon, and fucked him again, long and slow.

"Damn, but that is so fracking fantastic." Brev moved around to Qui-Gon's head. "Got some business to take care of, so I'll be gone a few days." He patted Qui-Gon's head. "Are you going to behave yourself while I'm gone?"

"Yes, sir."

"That's my good bitch." Brev turned to the guards. "He's all yours, sergeant. Take good care of him until I get back."

Dnaz bowed his head in acknowledgement. He stood beside the horse, watching Brev until the outer door closed. Finally, with an almost inaudible sigh, he removed Qui-Gon from the horse to take him for cleaning.

*** *** ***

By the evening of the fourth day, Brev had still not returned. Qui-Gon was leaning on the bench of the weight machine, waiting for the final part of the routine after his shower. He contemplated Dnaz, who was looking through a box of sex toys.

Struck by a sudden impulse, Qui-Gon spoke to Dnaz. "Are we using a different plug again tonight, sir?"

Dnaz looked up and blinked, as if a chair had spoken. He slowly turned his head and seemed to consider whether or not he should respond. "Yes. Big one tonight."

"Ah. Thank you for using lots of lube, by the way. That helps a lot, sir."

Dnaz thought again, as if measuring his words against some limited stock of conversational material. "Boss wants you in good condition."

"Of course. Do you enjoy this part of the job?"

A muscle jumped in Dnaz's jaw. He very deliberately walked over to Qui-Gon. "Look, Jedi, your situation is your problem. Doing my job well is my problem. Unless you got an issue, you don't talk to my people and you don't talk to me. It's better for everyone that way. You got that?"

Qui-Gon understood the implicit threat. "Yes, sir. Sorry."

Dnaz looked at Qui-Gon for a long moment before nodding.

The scant amount of lube that smoothed the entry of the plug that night was a not-so-subtle reminder to keep to his place. The discomfort distracted him from any desire to work on what he had started calling his Force, Philosophy and Inter-Species Negotiations course.

*** *** ***

The afternoon of the fifth evening brought new activity. Three guards came in, but stood near Qui-Gon's cell facing out. Workers brought in another table and more chairs, bringing the total seating to almost three dozen. Coldboxes were stacked up along one wall, places were set on the table, a small table with a music player and large speakers was set up near the coolers. A very large object under a cover was wheeled in and left near the head of the table.

Qui-Gon sat on his bunk, watching the flurry of activity. His gut was telling him, as usual, that anything different meant trouble for him. Brev probably had something particularly unpleasant in mind.

The workers cleared out. Dnaz came in with two more guards, and they went through the evening routine, but stopped before putting in an anal plug. Instead, Dnaz put the leash on Qui-Gon's collar, took him to the middle of the room and had him kneel. The guards spread out in a semi-circle behind him.

They waited.

A half-hour later, Brev and Gerdeth came in together. Brev was humming a happy little tune and both had smiles on their faces. Brev stopped in front of Qui-Gon and patted his cheek.

"Good news, my bitch. We had a very successful trip and it's time for a party."

Brev gestured to two of the guards. They took the cover off the new object – it was a large metal X with foot rests, wrist and ankle restraints and a large metal phallus.

"You, my lovely bitch, are going to be the display centerpiece. And for dessert, you will be the reward for my two boys who did exceptionally well. I'm quite looking forward to it." Brev grinned.

A surge of horror swept through Qui-Gon and his stomach threatened to empty itself of the remnants of his morning meal. His mouth opened and words came out before he could stop himself. "I can't do that."

"Did I just hear you say didn't want to play?" Brev raised an eyebrow.

Qui-Gon looked at the big X and mumbled miserably, "I… I can't…please don't…"

"I thought you might not be very enthusiastic. You're overdue for a little reminder, anyway. Bring him over here."

The guards pulled Qui-Gon along as Brev went over to the large screen in the wall. He pushed a button and the image changed to the interior of the cell on the other side of the wall. Obi-Wan was lying on the bunk, clearly unconscious.

Brev spoke into his communicator, "Gentlemen, please execute your instructions."

Qui-Gon was shoved against the screen and forced to watch helplessly as three large goons entered Obi-Wan's cell. One waved a vial under Obi-Wan's nose and the young knight sputtered to coughing life. The other two dragged Obi-Wan off the bunk and held him as the first goon slammed a fist into his kidney, then a knee into his crotch. The thud of meat and groan of pain carried clearly over the speaker.

"No, don't hurt him." Qui-Gon raised a hand to the window.

_Qui-Gon, what's going on?_

_Don't worry. They'll stop._

Obi-Wan's coverall was stripped off and he was held face down on the bed. The first goon unzipped his pants and reached in.

"No, please, sir, don't hurt him." Qui-Gon sagged down to his knees. "Please don't hurt him, sir. I'll do whatever you want."

Brev looked down at Qui-Gon and said softly, "Anything?"

Qui-Gon swallowed back the bile in his throat. "Yes, sir. Whatever you want, sir."

Brev raised the communicator again. "That will be all. Put him back to sleep."

_Qui-Gon. Talk to me. What the hell is…_

Qui-Gon watched as the injection Obi-Wan was given took hold and he drifted off. He steeled himself to forget his mate and find the strength to get through this next ordeal. A slap on the side of his face focused his attention.

"What are you?" Brev loomed, hands on his hips.

"I am your bitch, sir, your Jedi bitch." Qui-Gon huddled on his knees, eyes down.

"Don't forget it."

A tug on his leash brought Qui-Gon to his feet. He followed Brev to the X frame.

"Bend over."

Qui-Gon put his hands on his knees as lube was applied via a gloved finger that stretched his opening. Four guards lifted him and carefully mounted Qui-Gon on the metal phallus. He grunted as he slid home, feeling painfully stuffed. His wrists and ankles were locked in place.

"I think we need a bit more decoration." Brev grinned as he pulled Qui-Gon's penis through a silver cock ring, then attached small silver bells to the rings on his nipples and penis. "There, that will do for now. Gerdeth, tell them to bring the food in and let's get this party started."

Qui-Gon dug down to put himself behind the wall he had built, going deeper than he had been able to achieve before. He buried himself in a hole, slammed the door closed and put his mantras on a revolving loop. Breathe in, breathe out. It's just my body, it's not me. Over and over.

The next few hours felt like a bad nightmare, but seeing it through another's eyes. Huge steam trays of food were lined up, bottles of liquor were passed around as thirty-some people gathered in the room, Brev playing the grand host, showing off his bitch, music pounding. Words grew louder as alcohol flowed freely. The sudden spurts when the metal phallus vibrated against his prostrate, the cream rubbed on his penis to force it to an erection, the tinkling of the silver bell when Brev would tap his erect organ.

Breathe in, breathe out. It's just my body, it's not me.

The last hour, Brev making a speech, guards unmounting Qui-Gon, walking on all fours down the table, hands reaching to touch, to slap, to pinch his aching cock. Another speech and given to a short, gruff man with dirty hands for a blow job. Another speech, a cheer, and a tall redhead claims Qui-Gon's ass. Bent over the table, finger-fucked, then a hard cock, cheers, chants of 'fuck him harder', laughter, then hot cum spurting onto his ass and back.

Back on his knees by Brev's side. Fed tidbits by hand as the party winds down. People filtering out, a cleaning crew efficiently clearing everything away, including the extra tables and chairs.

Silence as Brev sips a drink, then laughing. "Nice party, Gerdeth."

"Yep. Good for morale to have a blowout occasionally. Tesho said the big party in the hangar is still going strong, too."

"Good." Brev set his drink down and petted Qui-Gon's head. "Are you my bitch?"

Qui-Gon let a bit more awareness open. "Yes, sir. I'm your bitch, sir."

"I'm not going to forget that you disobeyed earlier. Do it again and it will go a lot worse for your pretty boy. You understand?"

"Yes, sir." Qui-Gon's stomach clenched hard. "I'll be good, sir."

"Now for a reminder of whose bitch you are."

Qui-Gon was moved roughly to the padded horse and put over it.

"This is for being an idiot."

Qui-Gon pulled back in as twelve hard, measured lashes with the leather strap blistered his rear and back. He couldn't help the moisture that gathered in his eyes from the pain.

"This is because you belong to me."

A slather of lube, then a hard cock up his ass. A slow, steady rhythm for a few minutes, then a brutally fast barrage, a final slam, then slow release.

Qui-Gon lay limply across the horse, too drained to move. Two guards had to carry him back for cleaning. Dnaz removed the cock ring from his slowly deflating organ, ran the hose over and in him slowly and carefully for longer than usual, then made him a drink a bottle of something citrusy. He put a cool gel on his back, then around and inside his anus, but for once there was no plug. Qui-Gon was able to walk back to his cell mostly on his own, stood while Dnaz locked the chain to his collar, then collapsed on the bunk.

Dnaz waited as the other guards left, watching out of the corner of one eye as he put the blanket over Qui-Gon. When all were gone, Dnaz leaned close. "Don't do any more stupid stuff. It just makes things worse."

"Uhhuh." Qui-Gon clutched the blanket close.

"I'm serious, you idiot." Dnaz's tone was fierce and there was a fire deep in his eyes. A muscle jumped in his jaw.

Qui-Gon looked up. "Why do you care?" he slurred.

"You don't understand what Brev Wortok is really like. You haven't seen him when he's really mad or totally pissed drunk or just takes a notion to do something hurtful. If you think tonight was bad, you know nothing. He'll keep you alive, but he can and will fuck up you and your friend. I know it's not easy, but just do what you're told and no more stupid stuff. You're not the only one it makes things worse for."

"You're right." Qui-Gon took a slow breath, wincing as an inadvertent movement flared pain in his back and rear. "I'll try to do better."

Dnaz stared down for a moment, lips pressed tightly together. He turned abruptly and marched out of the cell. The door slammed shut, the lock clicked.

The room was echoingly quiet after he left.

An hour later, Qui-Gon was still coming out of his hidden headspace, becoming more aware of the aches and pains of his body, trying not to think about what had been done to him.

 _Qui…_ there was a quaver in the telepathic link.

_Obi-Wan. Are you alright?_

_Uhhh… hell of a headache, sore in some places… some fracking assholes started to rough me up but stopped… what's going on?_

_I'm sorry. That was my fault. I did something stupid and they took it out on you._

_What happened? Are you hurt?_

_I balked at something Brev wanted me to do. He had you hurt to remind me what he could do to you. I should have just complied in the first place since it was going to happen anyway. I'm mostly okay, nothing a little rest won't cure._

_Qui-Gon. What are you not telling me?_

Qui-Gon bit his tongue, knowing that Obi-Wan had refrained from adding 'this time', but finally replied. _I was the reward for a couple of Brev's people. I'd rather not talk about it._

There was a very long pause. Qui-Gon could almost feel Obi-Wan thinking about what he had just said and that he was not happy about it.

_Alright. I'll let it go for now. But we will get out of here and I'll help you with this._

_Right. Speaking of getting out?_

_I've got a few things. More information about the ducting systems from my garrulous engineer friend. From the chatter in the hangar, this last trip went very well for them, but there were already rumors about more raids coming up. That's all I've got for now, but I'll keep working on it._

_You've done well. I love you._

_I love you, too._

Qui-Gon tried to think Obi-Wan's words, his hopes for escape, but his aching body eventually demanded rest and he drifted off to sleep.

*** *** ***

Another ten day passed in what Qui-Gon had come to think of as the 'normal' routine. Mornings never varied except in whether or not he did weight work; on one occasion his hair was trimmed and a depilatory applied to his body as stubble was starting to grow back.. Evenings depended on whether Brev showed up, sometimes alone and sometimes with Gerdeth. If Brev was preoccupied with a stack of datapads, he was usually content with a quick blow job or fuck. If both of them came and were in good moods, Qui-Gon could count on blow jobs for both, one or more long fucks and once both at the same time. He had become quite adept at slipping away into his inner headspace by this time, but at best it only helped him endure, never fully taking away his awareness of what was being done to him.

Qui-Gon was making remarkable progress on the syllabus of his theoretical course, although given the amount of idle time he had and the many hours of thoughts and meditations he had accrued perhaps that should not have been a surprise. He was enjoying fleshing out his objectives and a first draft of the topics he wanted to cover.

The nightly conversations with Obi-Wan were still the highlight of every day, although he was adamant about keeping them short for fear of becoming too dependent on them and losing any part of the iron control he felt he needed to survive. The tenth night Obi-Wan was much more excited than usual – almost all of the prisoners had been dragooned into working in the big hangar. More ships were there than usual, there was chaotic activity as ships were cleaned, serviced and loaded. He had managed to sneak into an office and get a look at what appeared to be a base diagram; he was certain he could find the area where the data communications servers were housed.

Qui-Gon chided him gently for taking such a risk, but then praised him for his initiative. He didn't want to dampen Obi-Wan's spirits, so he continued to hide the worst of the abuse he was getting, but he found it difficult to share his mate's optimism about an escape.

*** *** ***

Three more days of 'normality'. Quiet mornings, the usual evenings of sucking, fucking or both.

The fourth day, there was no Brev or Gerdeth. Obi-Wan, however, returned later than usual that night.

_Qui-Gon. Something big is going to be happening soon. Everyone was working in the hangar all day again, clearing out some ships that just got back in and getting other ships prepared and loaded._

_Sounds like yet another raid._

_Probably. I've got even bigger news. They were having problems with power coming into one section, so I managed to tag along with my engineer friend when he got taken to help fix it. I know how to get into the ducts now. They're large enough that you'll fit easily and they've got lumi strips so we won't have to worry about stealing a handlight. They have section markings stenciled inside, too, probably for the maintenance people. Best of all, I got a chance to look at the diagrams on the datapad the guard was using to try to trace cables. I have a much better idea of how to get to their computers if the section numbering is consistent._

_Very good job, Obi-Wan. Just be careful, please. I don't want anything to happen to you._

_Some of the guards are pretty careless when they're bored, which seems to be often. I just play stupid and keep quiet, try to blend in with the others, and they've not bothered me as long as I work hard._

_Alright. I appreciate everything you're doing._

_It's the least I can do. We will get out, Qui-Gon. I know it._

_Let's hope so. You'd better get some rest. I love you._

_Love you, too._

The next morning, Qui-Gon was surprised to see Brev come in while he was still on the treadmill.

"Enough of that." Brev snapped his fingers. "Get my bitch over here now."

Dnaz put the leash on Qui-Gon and hustled him over to the padded horse.

Brev didn't even bother having Qui-Gon shackled in place, just bent him over the horse, slathered in some lube and set to work. He seemed to be in a remarkably good mood as he thrust in and out, occasionally singing to himself, and giving a loud shout as he climaxed. Brev stood still, apparently savoring the moment until his cock slipped out, then finally stepped back.

Qui-Gon stood very still, his arms draped over the horse. He felt a tug on his collar and slipped down to his knees.

"What are you?"

"Your bitch, sir. Your Jedi bitch, sir." Qui-Gon kept his gaze firmly on the floor. He had not learned how to stop the internal twitch that had developed every time he had to utter those words, but he was able to prevent any outward sign of it.

"That's right. Don't ever forget that." Another snap of fingers. "I want the bitch to have a reminder. Put him on the horse, strap him down tight and put a dildo in his sorry ass. Give him water, but he stays there until tonight."

Qui-Gon stood up and leaned over the horse again as his wrists and ankles were firmly fastened. He recognized Dnaz's deft touch as lube was liberally applied and a dildo about the size of Brev's cock was carefully slipped in. A belt around his waist and between his legs held it in place.

"I want to remember you like this, bitch." Brev patted Qui-Gon's cheek. "That was a good luck fuck 'cause I'm trying some new hunting grounds this trip. Clean and say good-bye to your master." He held his cock up so Qui-Gon could lick it clean, then kiss the tip. "Good boy." Brev tucked himself back in. "Sergeant, the bitch goes back on the regular schedule tonight until I get back. No plug tonight, that's his reward for being good, but after that I want a plug or dildo every night. He gives you any trouble at all, I want to know about it."

"Yes, sir."

Brev gave a loud, hard slap to Qui-Gon's rear as he went out, whistling a jaunty tune.

*** *** ***

Dnaz waited until Brev was gone before approaching the horse. He looked at Qui-Gon for a long moment, then gave a small shake of his head before turning away.

"Alright, you lot. We can't leave the prisoner unattended, so we may as well do something useful. I want this place cleaned up, every surface, especially the floor. I'll start with the cell, the rest of you start at the far end. Kano, get the cleaning supplies and clean linens from the closet."

Qui-Gon watched as they pulled out buckets, broom, mops, wipes and supplies from a closet that was hidden behind the wall beyond the tables. He had seen it open before, usually when they changed his sheet and blanket every five or six days. He quickly lost interest, however, as his neck began to complain about the angle of looking up.

"Are the ships gone?"

Qui-Gon twisted his head around to see Dnaz standing near him with a communicator in one hand and a bottle of water in the other. Another guard dragged a chair over and left it, a bucket of water and several wipes near him.

"No, I can't leave while the prisoner is out of his cell. It's going to be all day and he's secured in a medically precarious position. Boss will have everybody's balls if anything happens to him." Dnaz listened to the comm chatter. "Fine, we're cleaning in here, but I can let you have the other three in an hour. That will have to do." He turned off his comm and put it back on his belt.

Dnaz put the bottle and sheet on the chair. He checked the position of the dildo, then spent five minutes wiping Qui-Gon down with wet cloths to get rid of the sweat from his aborted workout and fucking. He put everything away before pulling the chair closer and sitting down.

"Listen up." Dnaz waited a moment until he saw Qui-Gon watching him. "You're going to be there for several hours. Typical humanoid body isn't designed to be in your position that long. I will be here all day and will provide water every hour or so. I don't want to see any of that stoic bullshit from you. If, any time during the day, you have to take a piss, have trouble breathing, can't feel your fingers or toes or start to cramp, you speak up. And you need to move occasionally. Got all that?"

"Yes, sir. I understand."

Dnaz reached into a pouch on his belt, pulled out some straps and affixed one to Qui-Gon's right wrist and the other to his left ankle. "Oxygen and circulation monitors in case you drift off."

Qui-Gon was curious about Dnaz's apparent familiarity with medical processes. He let a question slip out. "Are you –"

An electrorod to his neck stopped his words.

"How many times I got to tell you that you don't talk unless you got a problem or you're answering a direct question?" Dnaz continued in a low, almost angry whisper. "I ain't your fracking friend. It's not good for either of us to think that way." He pushed the 'rod painfully tight. "Just do what you're told. Don't push me, Jedi. You got that?"

"Yes, sir. Sorry."

Dnaz attached the electrorod back to his belt, let out a controlled breath. "Right." He sat down, opened the bottle, put a straw in it and held it to Qui-Gon's mouth. "Drink." After Qui-Gon had drained the contents, Dnaz stood up, tossed the bottle onto the chair and went to the cell to start cleaning.

The first hour was not bad. Qui-Gon listened and occasionally turned his head to watch the guards as a distraction, although it was difficult to hold his head up very long. Dnaz was very thorough and made them redo several areas. He finally released them and brought another bottle of water. Dnaz checked the restraints - he didn't say anything, but his expression was stormy as he glared at them.

The second hour was boring. Dnaz had apparently decided to go through some of the boxes in the middle of the room, sorting and rearranging things, setting aside several items that he cleaned before putting them back. Qui-Gon couldn't see very well, but it seemed that at least some of the items were sex toys, bondage equipment and one box held clothing of some sort. He occasionally wiggled his fingers and toes despite the very limited freedom of the tight shackles. Less often, he shifted his weight, but preferred not to be reminded of the fullness in his rear. Another bottle of water marked the end of the hour.

Qui-Gon had gradually begun slipping into his headspace, almost unaware that he was doing so; time no longer had meaning once he was fully in it. His next perception was being shaken awake. There was a small beep near his wrist.

"Shit!" Dnaz was loosening his wrist restraints and quickly moved around behind to do the same for his ankles. "Move your hands and feet. Now!"

A groggy stuffiness, beyond the usual dullness of the loss of Force he had become used to, was suddenly pierced by needles in his extremities.

"Oww." Qui-Gon sucked in a breath as the pain bit.

"Yeah, no shit. Keep flexing your hands and feet. Stretch your back, roll your shoulders and move anything that will move." Dnaz knelt down and began massaging Qui-Gon's feet.

It took several minutes before Qui-Gon felt full, normal sensation. He gave one last back arch before slouching back onto the horse.

"Better?"

"Yes, sir."

"Look, I know you check out whenever you can. I understand why, but we can't be having that shit today. So here's the deal – you stay awake, you keep moving and I'll keep those fracking restraints loose and get you some stuff to help keep cramps down. You go away again, I'll make sure you don't lose any fingers or toes, but I might not be in a hurry to stop cramps. What's it going to be?"

"I'll stay awake, sir." Qui-Gon didn't have to stop and think about that response. "May I ask a question, sir? It is pertinent to our situation."

"One question." Dnaz held a single finger.

"What time does the regular routine resume tonight, sir?"

"Not soon enough for me," Dnaz muttered. He crossed his arms, brow scrunched, and seemed to be thinking. Finally, he dropped his arms. "If I have you do extra stretching exercises, which are likely going to be a valid requirement, earliest I can legitimately take you off that fracking thing is eighteenth hour." He glanced at his wrist chrono. "It's just on to eleventh hour now, so there's seven hours to go." Dnaz leaned in very close to Qui-Gon's head. "If you're thinking somebody is going to feel sorry for you and take you off, forget it. There may not be any real-time monitors in here, but there's at least one recorder."

Dnaz straightened and pulled his communicator off his belt. He spoke into it for several minutes, repeating some items two or three times, before signing off. He sat down in the chair.

"We're going onto a schedule." Dnaz fiddled with his chrono. "Every quarter hour, you move." He leaned back, legs stretched out in front of him, and arms crossed.

The rest of Qui-Gon's day was ruled by the off-key beep that signaled a new round of activity. Starting with fingers and toes, he moved hips, back and shoulders within his restricted range of motion. An hour or so in, another guard brought in a cooler pack and sack lunch and dropped them off. Qui-Gon was given bottles of electrolyte-heavy fluids along with water and fed sections of a soft, orange-yellow fruit. With extra fluids going in, Dnaz kept empty bottles handy for Qui-Gon to urinate into.

Despite his best efforts, Qui-Gon's position bent over the horse was simply too awkward and limited to allow a full stretch of any part of his body. He had to breathe shallowly with his chest being compressed and by mid-afternoon his back and neck were tightening. He put himself into Dnaz's hands, literally, when the first cramp hit.

Dnaz's solution for the cramps was a mixture of massage, liniment and acupressure. His first response was to resolve the immediate problem with steady pressure to one of the antispasmodic points just under Qui-Gon's nose or on top of his foot between the big and second toes. He followed that up with rubbing in a cooling liniment, then finished with a deep muscle massage.

Qui-Gon withdrew, just a little, when Dnaz started working on him, but he made sure he stayed alert enough to respond to commands. Qui-Gon had to admit that the guard was very good at his job, even when he grunted from the impact of one of Dnaz's particularly hard massage movements. As he thought about what was happening, Qui-Gon realized that he had never felt the same level of repulsion when Dnaz touched him as he did when Brev touched any part of his body. Uncomfortable, yes, but with Dnaz their interactions were always clearly impersonal. He wondered idly again about Dnaz's background.

A high-pitched trilling and the entrance of two guards announced the end of the torment. The three guards quickly opened Qui-Gon's restraints and moved him over to the exercise area. Dnaz removed the dildo, then spent over thirty minutes having Qui-Gon do a series of careful stretching exercises before putting him on the treadmill for another half-hour of a slow jog. He administered another bottle of electrolyte fluids before washing him down and putting him away for the night. As was his usual wont, Qui-Gon omitted the more unpleasant details during his evening chat with Obi-Wan.

*** *** ***

Another six days of tedium, although Qui-Gon preferred that to having to deal with Brev. The routine was mostly the same, the only variations being which exercises he did, how far and fast he ran and whether he had a plug or a dildo at night. Obi-Wan had nothing new to report. He almost had a first draft of his course syllabus finished, although he was having an internal debate about some of the philosophical points he wanted to address.

Early evening of the seventh night, Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan were having their nightly chat when Obi-Wan stopped halfway through a sentence.

_What's going on?_

_I don't know. I just got pulled out of my cell. I'm in the corridor now… they're pulling everyone out. Hang on a minute._

Qui-Gon steeled himself to patience as one, two, then three minutes passed.

_Can you still hear me?_

_Yes. A little faint, but clear._

_I overheard some guards talking. Some of the ships are coming back and they're taking us all to the big hangar to start cleaning up. Sounds like at least one of the ships is significantly damaged. I heard something about casualties and guards are edgier than usual._

_Be careful. Love you._

_Always. Love you, too._

Qui-Gon suddenly felt restless. Although he didn’t know if Brev was on one of the returned vessels, changes in routines never seemed to bode well for him. He paced for a while, limited to the length of the chain attached to his collar, but eventually returned to his bunk. He fell into a light doze.

_Qui-Gon. Are you awake?_

Qui-Gon started, sat up. _Yes. What's going on?_

_I don't know. We'd been working for several hours, I think it's about second hour, and I was hustled back to my cell. Just me, none of the others_

_Not a good sign. Did you hear or see anything unusual?_

_Guards were dead quiet. I did see the outer hangar doors starting to open as we were leaving. Might be another ship coming in._

_Quite possible. Not much I can do about it, but I'll stay alert. Thanks for the heads up. Love you._

_Love you, too. Take care._

Qui-Gon sat on the edge of his bunk and waited. He hoped nothing was going to happen, but his gut was telling him otherwise.

Minutes dragged. Qui-Gon made a conscious effort to calm his nerves, resting his hands on his thighs, breathing slowly.

The outer door opened – the youngest guard hurried in, yawning and still tucking his shirt in. He grabbed the leash and cell key off the wall and unlocked the door.

Qui-Gon had stood and was keeping his hands by his side and his gaze looking down. He sneaked a peek out of the corner of one eye, but no other guards appeared. He didn't move as the guard unlocked the chain and attached the leash. He followed the guard out, knelt in front of the dais and waited as the guard backed up to the full length of the leash.

Five minutes later the door opened again. Brev and Gerdeth came in, huge smiles on their faces, practically prancing.

"Where's Sergeant Dnaz?" Brev stopped next to Qui-Gon as Gerdeth went to the small coldbox between the chairs on the dais.

"Sick bay, sir. I heard they had some people got shot up pretty bad."

"Oh, yeah." Brev grimaced. "Helluva mess to clean up. He's more useful there." Brev patted Qui-Gon's head. "My bitch is going to be a good boy, isn't he?"

"Yes, sir. I'll be good, sir." Qui-Gon hunched his shoulders, trying to make himself look smaller.

"Damned straight." Brev flopped in a chair as Gerdeth handed him an ale. They clinked bottles and drank deeply.

For a few minutes they drank and gloated about the great trip their ship had and how stupid Jedi were. On his third ale, Brev pulled up a bag from beside his chair and held it on his lap.

"Our trip was very successful, my bitch. I have beautiful trophies." Brev reached into the bag he had dropped beside his chair and pulled out a lightsaber. "It is just amazing how easy it ended up being."

Qui-Gon's gut clenched hard. He was pretty sure a lightsaber here meant a dead Jedi somewhere else. He had to force himself to keep breathing normally and keep his expression neutral.

Brev tossed the lightsaber onto the table between the chairs. "Now this one is kind of weird, but so was the old bastard we took off of. Kind of creepy looking, wild-ass antennas or something out of his head and shit. Didn't even put up much of a fight at all." He reached into the bag and pulled something out. "In any event, I'm still pretty sure this is a lightsaber. It's got one of those Jedi symbol things engraved on it."

Qui-Gon felt sour liquid crawling up the back of his throat, blood draining from his face and he was breathing through his mouth as he stared up. He knew this lightsaber. He knew the being who had carried that lightsaber, a being who had been his friend for over twenty years. He felt like throwing up.

"What's your problem, bitch?"

"How could you?" Qui-Gon's words forced their way out of his clenched throat in a broken, rasping whisper. "Master Th'shon was the kindest, gentlest being in the entire Temple. He would never hurt anyone."

"Damned right, he's never going to hurt anyone." Brev waved the lightsaber. "Made fracking sure of that, didn't we?" He grinned at Gerdeth, who toasted with his ale. "This is an odd one. How the frack do you turn this stupid thing on?" Brev handed the 'saber to Gerdeth, who began fingering it

Qui-Gon swallowed hard, then sat stock still as a crazy thought him. It was the longest of long shots, but this was the opportunity he had been waiting for if he could play this correctly and if several things went just the right way. Qui-Gon had begun to know how these two men thought, so it was worth a try even if the odds were low. He looked at the lightsaber as Gerdeth turned it around in his hands. It was a simple, straight tube with no visible controls. Each end was a smooth, rounded knob, one a bit larger than the other. Master Th'shon had fingers that were more like tentacles – he had shown Qui-Gon once how he operated his 'saber by wrapping one tentacle under the slightly larger knob and squeezing – that opened the larger knob and let the blade out. Qui-Gon sent a quick prayer to the Force and raised his head.

"You really are sick bastards. He was a wonderful Jedi and you have no right to even be touching his lightsaber. You're so stupid anyway you'll never be able to figure out how to get any good from it."

"Well, well, the bitch is feeling feisty tonight. Boo hoo, I'm just so sad about your poor Jedi," drawled Brev, his tone dripping with sarcasm. He backhanded Qui-Gon hard enough to cut his lip.

"Hey. Brev." Gerdeth tossed back the rest of his ale and stood up. He held up the 'saber with a big grin. "Bet I know one thing it's good for." He stepped around behind Qui-Gon, pushed him onto his hands and knees, removeds the belt holding the anal plug in place and pulled the plug out. "Betcha it will fit real good."

Qui-Gon called on every bit of acting ability he possessed and cringed. "No, please, sir. I'm sorry, sir. It's too big, please, sir."

Brev laughed. "I think that's a great idea, Gerdeth. Best use I've seen yet for those fracking things." He grinned, an evil leer. "In fact, I wanna teach my bitch a little lesson." He began unzipping his pants.

Qui-Gon was practically belly down on the floor now, letting a whine color his words. "Please, sir, it's too big, sir. I didn't mean it, I'm sorry, sir." He was almost certain now how this was going to go, and he was praying hard to the Force that Gerdeth put the correct end of the lightsaber into him. So far, though, the first two key elements of his hastily devised plan were working out, one as pure luck but Brev and Gerdeth's reactions just as he had anticipated.

Brev had his cock out now. He snapped his fingers. "Suck it, bitch." He waited a moment until Qui-Gon had crawled up the steps and had Brev's cock in his mouth. "Okay, Gerdeth, stick it in. Nice and slow. I want a good view."

Qui-Gon braced his arms against the base of the chair as he began working on Brev's cock. He sucked the tip and licked, long slow sweeping strokes. He was grateful that Dnaz had, as usual, used copious amounts of lube for the plug and much still remained – he didn't even want to think about that 'saber going in with nothing. He tried to relax his sphincter as he felt the cold metal at his entrance.

"Oh, yeah, there we go." Gerdeth pushed until the knob popped in.

Qui-Gon grunted at the sudden intrusion, but kept his attention focused on keeping Brev happy. Although not much longer, the lightsaber was wider than any cock or dildo that had been in him, and the slow progress made that difference painfully clear. He fed Brev's ego with groans and little whimpers as the lightsaber impaled him bit by bit, although his gut was roiling from the humiliation.

Brev's cock was hard and Qui-Gon increased his efforts to bring Brev closer to orgasm. He didn't need to fake the heartfelt moans of distress as the lightsaber continued its progress.

"Oh, yeah, that's it. Shove that mother home." Brev grabbed Qui-Gon's head as he gasped from the sudden pain of Gerdeth slamming the lightsaber in the last few inches. Brev began pumping his hips, fucking Qui-Gon's mouth, as Gerdeth slapped Qui-Gon's ass.

Qui-Gon could feel the smooth metal of the knob between his ass cheeks. With a last prayer to the Force, Qui-Gon initiated the next part of his plan, knowing it would either kill him or possibly free him.

Concentrating with all of his considerable will, Qui-Gon clenched his sphincter around the base of the knob. He held it until the wonderful fzzzzt-shoom of an igniting lightsaber filled the room. That was his signal to chomp down hard on the cock in his mouth, crushing and cutting the hard rod.

Two screams split the air.

Qui-Gon released the lightsaber and felt more than heard Gerdeth's body fall behind him. He shoved himself up and away from Brev, who was sliding to the ground, clutching his bleeding cock. With the same motion, Qui-Gon grabbed his leash and yanked hard, causing the gawping guard to stumble forward. Ignoring the pain in his ass, Qui-Gon ran forward and tackled the guard before he could activate the collar control. He cracked the guard's head into the floor, then rushed back to where Brev was holding his cock with one hand and reaching for his belt with the other. His collar went off, but Qui-Gon plowed through the pain, vision reddening, and returned the favor of a fierce backhand that knocked Brev's head into the chair and rendered him unconscious.

Falling to his hands and knees, Qui-Gon hung his head and sucked in ragged breaths. His whole body was shaking from the shock the collar had unleashed for those few seconds and his mind was blank with emotional aftermath for another several seconds.

Slowly recovering, Qui-Gon's first conscious act was to carefully remove his friend's lightsaber from his body. He then flopped over onto his back, still breathing hard, the 'saber clutched in one hand.

He forced himself to take slow, deep breaths until his heartbeat was somewhere near normal. He sat up to take stock of his situation.

Closest to him, Brev was sprawled across the steps to the dais; his cock had shriveled but was still oozing blood from the punctures caused by Qui-Gon's teeth. Gerdeth had fallen on his side, a shocked expression on his face and a lightsaber-burned hole in his chest still emitting a tiny bit of smoke. The guard was face-down, not moving.

This was about as far as Qui-Gon's spur-of-the-moment plan had taken him. He pulled in a very deep breath and let it out slowly as he considered his next moves.

Time was probably short - he assumed either another guard would show up or somebody would be looking to contact Brev. Qui-Gon looked at the 'saber in his hand – he had no idea how to do anything with it other than turn it on and off. He stood up, exchanged the 'saber for the one on the table, which had standard controls. Sitting on Gerdeth's chair, he dialed the 'saber down to its lowest setting and very carefully removed his collar.

Qui-Gon sat back with a gasp as the Force returned in a joyous wave. He closed his eyes and let the Force roll through him and around him. For the first time since his capture, he felt whole again. A wide smile graced his lips.

Returning to the moment, Qui-Gon's first move was to reach out. He nodded… good, no activity in the corridor outside this room. His second move was to go check the guard – he was definitely very unconscious. And he was almost as tall as the Jedi.

"He won't be needing these anytime soon." Qui-Gon's grin was wolfish as he divested the guard of pants and undertunic and put them on. "I don't want anyone else seeing these tattoos right now."

"Now for Obi-Wan." Qui-Gon strode over to the screen that marked the wall to his mate's cell. He began scanning that wall for wiring or pipes.

_Obi-Wan. Are you awake?_

There was a long pause before a reply came back. Sorry, must have dozed off. _What's happening? Are you alright?_

_I am more alright than I have been in many tendays. Please stand by your door. I have acquired a lightsaber and am about to make a hole in the wall._

_A lightsaber? What's going on?_

_Let me get you out of there first._

Finding a suitable area, Qui-Gon plunged the 'saber into the wall and quickly had a hole cut in the relatively thin metal. He helped Obi-Wan through into his side and they gave each other a quick hug.

"Let's get that collar off." Qui-Gon set the lightsaber for the lowest setting again and carefully removed his mate's collar. He held Obi-Wan up as his contact with the Force returned and his knees went weak for a moment.

Obi-Wan had a huge smile on his face as he stepped back from Qui-Gon's embrace. As he looked around the room, though, his eyes went hard and his expression was grim as he took in the cell, the horse, the frame and the metal X. There was definitely no sympathy in his expression for the three people on the floor.

"Qui-Gon, what in the seven hells is going on? And what have they been doing to you?"

"Obi-Wan, we don't have time to discuss that now. Tonight, I had an opportunity and I took it. Right now, our priority has to be getting out of here. And I want to take those with us if possible." Qui-Gon pointed to the trophy case.

"Brek Wortok is responsible for all of them?" Obi-Wan's jaw was set, a muscle jumping.

"As far as I know, yes."

"Is that h –"

The door slid open.

"Sorry I'm late, sir. Casualties took a while to get all of them stabil-" Dnaz stopped short. Before he could move, Obi-Wan had pounced, slamming him up against a wall with an arm ratcheted up behind him.

"What do we do with him, Qui-Gon?"

"Get his gear off first." Qui-Gon carefully removed the communicator, the electro-rod and the now-useless controller. He stepped back. "Sergeant Dnaz. I'm sorry you came in."

"Is Brev Wortok dead?" asked Dnaz.

"Wounded, unconscious, but not dead."

"Do you intend to kill him?"

Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan looked at each other.

"I don't think we can take him with us," said Obi-Wan. "We'll be lucky to get ourselves out, but I do want to find those data files."

"Then we'll have to leave him. I won't kill him in cold blood, though."

"If you're leaving him alive, then take me with you. I can help you."

"Who is this person?" asked Obi-Wan. "We don't have time to waste."

"Head of my guard detail." Qui-Gon looked at Dnaz for a long moment. "Let him go." Obi-Wan gave him a skeptical look but complied. "Sergeant Dnaz. You have one minute to convince us."

Dnaz rubbed his shoulder and took a deep breath. "I was a good man. Medic in the army, med tech after I got out, worked my way up as a nurse. Emergency room, operating room, wards, I learned to do it all and wanted to be a doctor someday. Had a family, wife, three kids. Youngest got sick. It was real bad and I took out loans. Wars, bad economy, lots of us lost jobs and I couldn't pay back the loans. Brev Wortok was recruiting, said he'd pay off my loans if I joined him. I was fracking desperate and he kept his word. But then he wanted me to do things I couldn't – I'm no killer." He touched his face. "He and his goons gave me these scars and a lot more you can't see. He threatened my family, too, but I managed to get word to them to run. Brev kept me around 'cause I'm good at keeping people from dying. So I been stuck on this rock for three years now, doing medical stuff and whatever other crap jobs they wanted. Until you got here, and I took care of you, too."

Dnaz straightened, his head up. "You killed Brev Wortok's best friend. If I stay, he'll take it out on me 'cause I wasn't here when you managed to do whatever happened here. I was stern but always straight with you, Jedi, best as I could under the circumstances. I could have made your life a lot worse if I'd been an asshole. If you got any honor, you'll take me with you. I'll help you get out. I'll make whatever sworn statements you want about what I know. All I want is the chance to leave and go find my family."

"Qui-Gon, we don't need this complication."

Qui-Gon held up a hand. "I believe him. Dnaz, we'll take you with us. I can't guarantee our escape, and if you betray us, I can't guarantee your safety or your life."

"Fair enough. Thank you. So, do we have a plan?"

"If we can make it to the hangar, I've had my eye on a couple of small, fast ships we can hijack," said Obi-Wan, eying Dnaz dubiously. "On the way, though, I want to swing by their computer room on the first level and get whatever files we can to nail Wortok. I can get us to the computer room and the hangar through the duct system."

"You talking about the computer room up on Corridor 17G?" asked Dnaz.

"Yes."

"Terrible idea. That's right next to their ops center. Always people there. Better to try to get right to the hangar so we can get out of here."

"The whole point of our mission is to find evidence to bring down this operation." Obi-Wan crossed his arms, his jaw jutting out. "Even if we could take Wortok with us, we need to find evidence beyond just hearsay."

Dnaz looked at Qui-Gon, who had gone over to remove Gerdeth's boots since they were the closest to his own size, but he simply shrugged. Dnaz sighed. "Alright. If that's what you want, you should try the backup computer room on the second level, Corridor 23A. There's hardly ever anyone in there since it's all automated." He pulled a lanyard up from under his tunic. "I have a universal pass for all the interior spaces in case there's a medical emergency and I gotta go find the patient."

Obi-Wan relaxed a bit and for the first time seemed to consider that Dnaz might actually be a useful addition to their escape. "23A… I think I can get us there through the ducts. And from there we can go up one level and find an outlet in the hangar."

"Very well." Qui-Gon had tugged the boots on. "First thing is to collect all the lightsabers, then we move out."

"Brev is still bleeding. If you're serious about not wanting to kill him, I should do something about that. Medkit's in the closet. Some bags in there, too."

"Alright. You take care of that while we get the lightsabers."

They moved quickly. By the time the Jedi had packed two bags with all of the lightsabers they could find, Dnaz had finished bandaging Brev's cock and given Brev and the guard an injection that would keep them out for at least several more hours. He had also found some headband lights so they could see more easily inside the ducts if any of the lumistrips weren't working.

Obi-Wan had shoved a table under a ventilation outlet so he could reach up. He used a lightsaber to simply cut the grate out of the ceiling. "I'll take the lead. Sound carries in there, so we'll need to be quiet." He leaped upward and into the opening.

Qui-Gon boosted Dnaz up, then followed them both.

The ducts were large enough that even Qui-Gon could easily crawl. Although they had clearly not been cleaned in a while, every turn was marked and Dnaz confirmed the corridor numbers. They made good time, using a maintenance ladder to go up to the next level.

It was almost third hour when they dropped quietly into the dark room. There must have been a motion sensor as dim lights came up when they entered. The area they had landed in looked like a control room, a long table with three consoles and storage drawers. There was an inner room with a locked door. Dnaz went to the door, pressed his passcard against a monitor and opened the door. Inside there were rows of computers on metal racks.

"Alarm systems?" asked Obi-Wan.

"Not on the doors. And they turned off the motion alarms when some kind of local rats kept getting in here and setting them off – they just work for the lights now. Mostly just physical locks and whatever security software is on the computers. I don't know how good it is, but if it's like the rest of their local operations, they might have been kind of sloppy about it, despite how great they seem to be with raiding. I think they feel safe here and have gotten careless."

"I'll work on getting into the system." Obi-Wan sat at a console. "I'll need some kind of data transport device if either of you can find those."

"You mean like these?" Qui-Gon had started pulling open drawers. He held up a fistful of black tubes with data caps.

"Yes, that would be them." Obi-Wan grinned. "It seems the Force is looking favorably upon us at last."

"We'll see if there's anything else useful." Qui-Gon and Dnaz began opening drawers and storage lockers.

Obi-Wan took three of the data devices, inserted them into some of the computers and then returned to a console.

By the time Qui-Gon had worked his way around the outer part of the room without finding anything interesting, Obi-Wan had sliced his way into the computer network.

"In already?" Qui-Gon perched a hip on a desk.

"Into the system, yes. It's not exactly high-grade security. They did take the extra step of encrypting individual files. I've started just downloading files; we can work on decrypting later."

"How long?"

"The system is fast, but there's a lot there. At least thirty, maybe forty minutes."

"That will put us close to fourth hour." Dnaz had come back from the far end of the server room with portable tool kits. "We're not too far from a maintenance shaft, so we could be up in the hangar by half past fourth. Normally, that would be a very quiet time of the day. With the ships that just came back last night, it might be touchy. If they got the ships cleaned out, they might put off reloading and most everyone will be dog tired and asleep. If not, could still be busy."

"We'll just have to take our chances. The ships I have in mind are in a back corner and they never seemed to have guards on any of their vessels, so I'm sure we could get aboard. But we'll have to figure out how to open the hangar doors."

"Well…." Dnaz shifted in place.

"Do you have any suggestions?" Qui-Gon lifted an eyebrow.

"I had some thoughts a couple of times about trying to get off this rock, but it never worked out. I did find the emergency panel for doors and lights and stuff in the hangar when they were doing maintenance and one of the idiots stuck his finger in the wrong socket – it's behind a piece of the wall. If you're talking about stealing one of the Rigan5 scoutships, that console's not too far from them. It seemed to take a good five minutes for the hangar doors to open, though."

"What about a diversion?"

Obi-Wan thought a moment. "There are four of those ships in that part of the hangar. Our first priority should be to secure the ship we want to escape on and start getting it ready. Unless they've moved them, at least two are lined up with hangar doors. I could sneak onto one of them, get it on, set its front laser cannon to go off as the hangar doors are just about to open, then use a timer to blow up the ship a few minutes after we blast out."

"You can do all that?" Dnaz looked skeptical.

"I've flown ships very close to those models before. Shouldn't be a problem."

"We'll need someone to open the hangar doors when Obi-Wan is ready to go," said Qui-Gon.

Dnaz studied Qui-Gon for a long moment, finally gave a small nod. "I'll do it."

"Sounds like a plan. Get the data, go to the hangar, find and open the panel, get two ships ready, Obi-Wan preps the diversion, Dnaz starts the hangar doors opening, and I keep the escape ship ready with doors open until both of you are aboard. We do an emergency lift-off through the doors, the diversion blows up and we get as far away as we can as quickly as we can." Qui-Gon looked at his two companions. "Any questions?"

Dnaz seemed dubious. Obi-Wan was grinning.

The Force continued to bask favorably upon them, and for once on this miserable, misbegotten mission, everything seemed to work in their half-assed plan. Two hours later, they were screaming out into the atmosphere in a four-person scout ship. Behind them was a very satisfying explosion as flames jetted out from the remnants of the hangar doors.

*** *** ***

Obi-Wan grimaced as he took a sip of the liquid in his cup, and quickly set it down.

"Not exactly gourmet provisions." Qui-Gon gave a half-smile. He was drinking the bastard concoction that passed for a hot beverage, but only because it had been tens since he'd last had a cup of tea. The ship they had commandeered had proved to be space-ready as far as maintenance and weapons went, but the thirty-day supply of provisions had been mostly ration and soup bars.

Obi-Wan just snorted and went back to reviewing his datapad. "I think I've got this message sorted out." He handed the 'pad to Qui-Gon. "If you could just double-check that I used the correct code words, we can get this sent."

Dnaz was at the other small pull-down table in the common room. He looked up from his own datapad where he was working on a statement about everything he had done for Brev Wortok. "If you're sending messages, does that mean we're staying here? Wortok's got other ships and he'll be looking for us."

'Here', in this case, was the fourth moon of a gas-giant planet five random hyperdrive legs away from their recent home.

"We're counting on it." Qui-Gon tapped his 'pad. "We need to find out how he's been getting information about Jedi locations in the field. We suspect there is a leak on Coruscant. This message is carefully constructed to provide our location with a supposedly disabled ship and requesting a pick-up, but it contains code words that will tell our mission contact that Brev Wortok will be looking for us but we will not be on the ship. Ideally, they can send military assistance which will arrive before Brev's ships do."

"And if they don't? There's no way off this rock for us other than this ship."

"They will send somebody." Qui-Gon kept his tone matter-of-fact. "If Brev beats them here, we'll just have to keep hiding out in those caverns we found."

Dnaz audibly sucked on a tooth as he shook his head. He muttered a few incoherent words under his breath as he returned to his task.

Obi-Wan sent their message from the control room of the ship. After several hours, they received an acknowledgement, one which included the code words telling them their real message had been understood. After a last meal aboard, they packed food, water, survival gear, a portable radio, the bags of lightsabers and the precious data devices. They started a low-energy emergency signal broadcast, left the audio pickups running, locked the ship and hiked out to a range of nearby mountains where they had found some deeply hidden caverns. They set up a camp inside, a distance scanner outside to keep watch, and settled in to wait.

There was very little to do as the next three days dragged by. The weather was hot, but the caves were cool. They slept, they ate, they took turns keeping an eye and ear on their ship, which stood lonesome on the plain where they had parked it, and repeated the process.

Although he was exceedingly happy to be free and to be reunited with Obi-Wan, Qui-Gon found that the barriers he had erected in his mind were as strong as ever. He enjoyed talking to Obi-Wan, but he found himself actually glad that Dnaz was there. Although he was a reminder of all that he had endured, Dnaz's presence made it easy to justify separate bedrolls. And separate bedrolls were what Qui-Gon needed as he tried to sort out his feelings about his reluctance to let his mate touch him.

Very early on the fourth morning, Dnaz shook both Jedi awake.

"We've got company. There's a couple of ships landing."

All three gathered around the small distance scanner. They increased the volume on the radio picking up the audio feeds.

Each of the two ships had set down a discreet distance on opposite sides of their escape ship. A small group of heavily armored beings descended from one ship and approached warily. An amplified voice boomed out.

"We know you're in there. Come out peacefully and you'll be allowed to live."

A few cautious moments passed before a second voice spewed out a string of high-volume profanities, the gist of which strongly questioned the parentage of the ship's occupants and promised all sorts of various highly unpleasant consequences if they did not march their worthless asses down the ramp immediately.

"I don’t think Mr. Wortok is very happy," said Dnaz, tone dry and face deadpan.

Obi-Wan grinned, but Qui-Gon had to repress a wince. That voice carried too many horrible reminders for him.

They watched as the newcomers went back to their ship. A few moments later, a laser cannon poured forth ravenous energy until it slagged a corner of their ship. The ship proceeded to flop onto its side with a dusty geysering 'whump'.

"It's not going to take them very long to figure out we're not there." Obi-Was was stroking his patchy chin beard. "What do you think he'll do next?"

"He's vindictive as hell, so he won't give up." Dnaz pursed his lips. "I think he'll send out search parties."

"If he has drones with infrared capability, it will just be a matter of time before they find our heat signatures." Qui-Gon nodded back over his shoulder. "We can retreat far into the caverns to avoid that, but then we won't know when our ships arrive."

"Speaking of which, they should have been here by now. I don't know what's going on, but I suggest we pack up and be prepared to move if they send searchers this way." Obi-Wan waved a hand toward the ships. "Qui-Gon, can you keep watch while Dnaz and I get our gear ready?"

Qui-Gon nodded and the other two set to their tasks. It didn't take long before Obi-Wan and Dnaz rejoined him.

"Nothing much to report. It looks and sounds like they're getting organized. They've unloaded a dozen swoops, and I think they're briefing their people on the search grid."

The tension grew as the first three-person swoop teams took off – one north, one south, one east and finally, the last one west toward them. The teams were moving slowly, clearly in hunting mode, but much faster than a foot search would take.

"Forty-five minutes, maybe an hour… then we'll need to move." Qui-Gon sat down and leaned back against a warm rock. "A respectful solicitation to the Force might be in order while we wait." He stretched his legs out, closed his eyes and went still.

"Is he for real doing some Jedi thing or is he just sleeping?" asked Dnaz quietly. His expression was clearly skeptical.

"Does it matter?" Obi-Wan shrugged, but his lips were struggling to hold back a smile. "Let's see what happens." His expression changed to a thoughtful brow furrowing. "Actually, there is something I should have thought of doing already."

Obi-Wan went to their radio and switched frequencies. He listened intently – his effort was rewarded a few minutes later with a high-pitched, modulated 'bing, bong, bing, bong'.

"Somebody is definitely out there." Obi-Wan responded to Dnaz's lifted eyebrow. "That's a Jedi emergency frequency, so it's most likely that we have friends up there somewhere. At this point, though, we'll still have to wait to see what happens since this radio does not have sufficient power to send a signal into the upper atmosphere."

It seemed that the Force was still shining brightly on them this day. Barely a quarter-hour had passed before two Republic ships, a scout and a small fighter, came in low over the horizon, laser cannons cutting a furrow toward Brev Wortok's ships. The cannons abruptly ceased and the barely discernible mist of sleeping gas drifted across the stationary ships, dropping any unprotected beings in the open where they stood. The two newcomers made another swift pass, hammering the rear of the criminal ships until the hulls cracked, then both began flying slow circles overhead.

The radio popped to life as a Republic utility troopship lazily set down a half mile from the wrecked vessels.

"Master Jinn, Knight Kenobi, if you hear this transmission, please respond."

"Qui-Gon, get up. We're being rescued."

Qui-Gon opened his eyes and muttered a grumble that sounded a lot like "It's about time." He stretched and yawned as the query repeated on a loop. Finally, he rose to his feet and ambled over.

"You could have just answered them, Obi-Wan."

Obi-Wan bowed and pointed to the radio. "Master Jinn, as the senior member of our group, I think you should have the honor, my most esteemed colleague and mate."

"You just want me to have to take the lead on all those fracking reports we're going to have to write." Qui-Gon snorted and reached for the switch on the radio.

Obi-Wan grinned and Dnaz shook his head at both of them.

*** *** ***

The morning light was almost dim in this far corner of the Temple gardens; the oldest trees lived here and their foliage was dense. Qui-Gon eased himself down onto the grass and leaned back into the quiet strength of a great bolarsan, centuries old. He sighed as he closed his eyes and let his whole body relax.

Force, he felt so fracking tired.

He considered that for a few moments and amended that thought. No, he knew he was tired, but he also felt so numb that he wasn't sure he consciously actually felt anything at all.

It had been a long four days getting to this morning. Master Plo Koon had led the rescue unit and after a brief, happy reunion, had set both him and Obi-Wan to work. After Qui-Gon explained Dnaz's presence, Koon took charge of him. All three were asked to identify any of the prisoners they could; Dnaz had been the one who found Brev Wortok, still unconscious from the gas. Qui-Gon was glad it hadn't been him – he wanted nothing to do with that man ever again.

After everyone was packed into the troopship, they had headed home. With all of the prisoners taking up much of the usual space, rooms were shared and bunks were hot-swapped for the two and a half day trip. Qui-Gon hadn't minded the tight quarters. It meant he could put off certain awkward questions. He and Obi-Wan spent most of their time on the trip putting together reports, or at least Obi-Wan wrote up reports. Qui-Gon was finding it slow going.

They were six hours out from Coruscant. Qui-Gon had found a bit of privacy in a supply room. He was sitting on the floor staring blankly at a datapad when his friend found him.

"Qui-Gon, may I join you?" asked Plo. "No, please don't get up."

"Of course." Qui-Gon aborted his half-hearted attempt to rise.

They sat together in silence for several minutes.

Finally, Plo spoke. "I thought you might want to know that we believe we have found Wortok's source in the Temple. Master Lu and Knight Henver had narrowed the suspects down to three. It was the coded message that you and Obi-Wan sent that gave us the final evidence. That being has been taken into custody."

Qui-Gon gave a little shrug. "I'm glad the leak was stopped." He had a bloody red vision of Master Th'Shon and had to close his eyes. "I just wish it could have been sooner." He took a few deep breaths before opening his eyes.

"We all do." Plo put a hand on Qui-Gon's forearm. "I've been reading some of the preliminary reports from Obi-Wan and Sergeant Dnaz. I know they haven't included everything, but what is there is bad enough and I can read between the lines. I'm sorry you had to be put through all that."

"Life as a Jedi can be dangerous." Qui-Gon stared down at the 'pad. "Sometimes it's just worse than usual."

"Qui-Gon, you don't have to put all the details in the official report. Anything you don't want to have to discuss with the Council can go in a sealed appendix. We do need whatever you have that will help us convict Wortok on the criminal charges."

Qui-Gon nodded. "I'll work on it."

"You know you'll have to see a Soul Healer after we get back." Plo briefly squeezed Qui-Gon's arm, then let it go. "We all want to help you recover. If you need somebody else to talk to, I'm there anytime you want."

"I appreciate the offer." Qui-Gon gave a wan smile. "You've always been a good friend all these years."

After Plo left, Qui-Gon forced himself to start writing about the events before he woke up in a box. He managed to finish by leaving out most of what happened after that point; his sealed appendix was essentially a half page acknowledging that he had been sexually assaulted multiple times.

On Coruscant at last, Qui-Gon had given a professional mission debriefing by dint of many years of practice. There had been a horrible hour when he and Obi-Wan had to account for the evidence they had brought back. In this case, the 'evidence' was a sack of data devices, which Obi-Wan described and turned over, and two bags of lightsabers. One by one, he and Obi-Wan had presented a 'saber, it was matched to a dead Jedi, and they signed a transfer-of-custody. The experience had left him with a headache and a nauseous gut. He had the mandatory post-mission physical later that afternoon – they had gotten rid of the headache, examined him with a minimum of touching except with the Force, pronounced him physically fit and removed the piercings. The tattoos, however, were going to be a longer-term issue. The Healer explained the laser process for removing them, that they needed to do an initial evaluation to match the appropriate color lasers to these specific tattoo inks and that it was likely going to take several sessions with recovery time in between. Qui-Gon took that to mean that he was, essentially, going to be stuck with them for many months. His last stop at Healer Hall had been to set up an appointment for a mandatory meeting with a Soul Healer, something he was not looking forward to at all.

Last night. That had been the worst so far.

Their first night back in their shared quarters hadn't been too bad. They were both tired and Qui-Gon delayed in the fresher until Obi-Wan was asleep, then rose before him to shower. It was tiresome, but meant he had been able to keep Obi-Wan from seeing the tattoos or trying to ask too many questions.

Last night. Obi-Wan had clearly been happy to be home again, but had also seemed uncertain how he should be interacting with his mate. They'd had a quiet meal in the refectory, then a few hours at their respective data terminals. Qui-Gon had decided to use the fresher first this time, came out dressed in light workout pants and shirt. He had gathered their laundry and was leaning over to put it into the chute in their sleeping room when he felt Obi-Wan put a hand on his shoulder.

"Hey, let me take care of that for you so you can get to bed."

Qui-Gon froze at the unexpected contact from behind and hunched inward.

"Qui-Gon?"

Qui-Gon wrenched himself around and backed into a wall. "I'm sorry… I can't…"

"What's wrong? How can I help?"

Qui-Gon pressed harder into the wall as Obi-Wan started to reach out. "No. Just… no. Don't touch me." He started to shake a little. "I'm sorry."

Obi-Wan turned white as he hurriedly moved backward. "Force. I'm so stupid, I wasn't thinking…"

Qui-Gon remembered the stricken expression on his mate's face, the almost five full minutes Obi-Wan spent fumbling around trying to apologize and his insistence on sleeping on the sofa. Qui-Gon had slept very little after that, alone in their bed, wracked by guilt for his feelings and for the things he had deliberately not told Obi-Wan while they were captives. He loved Obi-Wan, but he didn't know how to get back to where their relationship had been before they left Coruscant on that thrice-cursed mission. The wall he had built inside his head to keep his sanity felt too immense to surmount.

Qui-Gon crept out of their quarters at dawn, turning his head to avoid looking at his sleeping mate, and made his way out to the hoped-for sanctuary of the gardens. At the base of the ancient bolarsan he sat, body slumped, cloak wrapped around him.

Force take it, he was a damned Jedi Master. He was supposed to be stronger than this. Supposed to be, but he felt dull and small and so very miserable.

*** *** ***

Qui-Gon had lost track of time when a small voice got his attention.

"Master Jinn?"

Qui-Gon blinked a few times. The light was coming almost straight down and he realized he must have dozed off. Stiffness when he tried to move confirmed it. He looked around for the source of the voice and saw an initiate. It was of an avian species, a little under four feet tall, with brilliant white and yellow plumage peeking out from a uniform modified to allow for its wings and thin legs. Its slender beak was reddish orange.

"Yes, I am Master Jinn. And you are?"

"Initiate Kkln. I wasn't sure it was you, Master Jinn." The relief was clear even through the mechanical vocoder that hung from its neck. "I'm still not very good at recognizing human faces."

"I'm sure you will get better with time and practice." Qui-Gon inclined his head. "What may I do for you today?"

"I am supposed to give you this and also tell you that Soul Healer Peloss has changed your appointment to fourteenth hour." It came close and held out a small object.

"Ah. I must have forgotten it this morning. Thank you." Qui-Gon slipped his communicator onto his belt. "Fourteenth hour?" He thought a moment and almost cursed, his words held back by the presence of the young being. "What time is it now?"

"Lunch time, sir." The initiate gave a happy chirp. "It's one of my favorite times of the day."

"Yes, it is a good part of the day." Qui-Gon mustered a smile as he wondered how he could have blanked out an entire morning and missed his tenth hour appointment. "You did very well at finding me. May I ask how you knew where I was?"

"Knight Kenobi said you might be here." The initiate rustled its wings. "So I flew around until I saw you." The mechanical voice dropped to a confidential semi-whisper. "I like it out here a lot, too. The trees are really nice."

"They are indeed. Thank you. I don't want to keep you from your meal."

The initiate gave a little half bow, half hop and flittered away.

Qui-Gon pulled himself to his feet and did several stretches. He was worried both about his missed hours and the fact that his mate had apparently sent an initiate to look for him instead of coming himself. He sighed; it would just make anticipating the rescheduled appointment that much worse. He wasn't hungry, but decided he would go back to his quarters for some tea.

*** *** ***

Five minutes before fourteenth hour, Qui-Gon presented himself at Healer Hall. A padawan escorted him to a room, explaining that Master Peloss had requested they meet here instead of in the master's office, which was three doors down the corridor.

Qui-Gon took a deep breath, squared his shoulders and entered the room. He stopped after a few steps. The room itself was neutral, with warm colors on the walls, soft sofas and armchairs arranged in a circle, little side tables and a tea service on a trolley.

Obi-Wan was there, sitting at one end of a sofa, a cup of tea in one hand. He put it down and shifted uncertainly in place.

Master Ghyron was in an armchair. The reptilian Jedi was currently head of the mission assignment group.

Sitting cross-legged, with boots off, on a small plush settee was another Jedi that Qui-Gon did not know. Presumably it was Master Peloss, but at first glance he could not tell what gender the being was. Of medium size, it had vaguely vulpine features with a minimal snout, pointed ears, and fine fur ranging in color from shades of reddish brown to a blue-tinted white on its face. There were black points on the tips of the ears, nose and backs of its hands, with warm brown eyes.

"Ah, Master Jinn. I am Master Peloss." The being rose gracefully and came forward. "Welcome to our first meeting. I have taken the liberty of ordering some refreshments, so please help yourself before we begin."

"Thank you." Qui-Gon inclined his head. "I apologize for missing our appointment this morning. And I don't wish to be rude, but I am not familiar with your species and am uncertain how you wish to be addressed."

"Don't worry about this morning; it happens sometimes. And that is a perfectly sensible question. My species is androgynous and generally hermaphroditic; we can reproduce as needed to meet the season or needs. I'm not particular about pronouns; you may use the neutral they or them if you wish. You may call me Pel or Peloss. May I call you Qui-Gon? That will be so much easier if we are to work together."

"Of course." Qui-Gon risked a glance at Obi-Wan, who merely raised one eyebrow and shrugged a shoulder. "I believe I will have a cup of tea."

By the time Qui-Gon was settled in an armchair next to Obi-Wan's sofa, he found that he had somehow acquired not just a steaming mug of a fragrant tea, but also a nut-spread sandwich and several different biscuits on his side table.

"Welcome, everyone." Peloss had resumed her cross-legged positon. "We are here today to discuss, in general terms, what will be happening with Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan based on their recent mission events. I asked Master Ghyron to attend this initial meeting as we all need to be aware of certain mission limitations. If you would begin, sir."

"Yes." Ghyron was usually a blunt being, and this occasion was no different. "First, I do not know nor do I wish to know what happened unless there is an impact on what assignments you may have. Second, a medical hold has been placed in your records – neither of you is allowed to take off-planet taskings without explicit approval from Master Peloss. Knight Kenobi, there are a number of rotations which all new knights are supposed to take within their first five years, so I have several options for you. I have listed them on the datapad I gave you. Please drop by the mission office in two days so we can get your schedule finalized. Master Jinn, I have studied your file – you indicated a desire to teach, particularly in the areas of negotiating and philosophy. There are a few seminars and courses being scheduled for the next training cycle if you have something particular in mind – "

"No." The abrupt dismissal surprised even Qui-Gon, but the sudden vision of the lesson plan he had been building while passing time in his cell made him revolt. "I very much appreciate the offer, but now is not… not a good time for that."

"Very well." Ghyron seemed taken aback at the unexpected refusal, but recovered quickly. "You have many skills that we would like to take advantage of, so do you have something else in mind?"

Qui-Gon toyed with the back of a canine tooth with his tongue for a moment. "Perhaps lightsaber classes or tutoring? I like working with plants, also." Anything that was totally different from where he had been, he added in his mind.

"Staying physically active would be very helpful," suggested Peloss.

"I think we can arrange for you to help with the current initiate and junior padawan lightsaber training, then take on some classes when the next cycle starts in a few tens. Beginning katas, too, if you wish. The Creche and Temple grounds teams are always looking for help, as well." Ghyron smiled toothily. "We also have a new advanced lightsaber course we're trying out – if either or both of you'd like to come by during the afternoons and bash about knights who have too high an opinion of their skills, Master Bqein would love to have you. He also has some thoughts about team training he'd probably wish to discuss with both of you if you're willing. He has often spoken of how well you two have always done in the Temple 'saber competitions."

"Those all sound interesting. May I think about it for a while?"

"Of course. Why don't you come in with Knight Kenobi to discuss your options. That will give me some time to identify some specific activities and times for you."

"That would be acceptable."

"Good. That's all I'm here for, so I will bid you all good day." Ghyron stood, nodded to everyone and left.

There was a long moment of silence as everyone busied themselves sipping tea and nibbling on biscuits until after the door closed.

Master Peloss set their cup down and settled back into her chair. They rested their hands on their knees.

"Qui-Gon, Obi-Wan." They nodded in the general direction of both men. Their voice was pleasant and softly pitched. "Beginnings are often difficult, so let us get this one over with. We won't go into details today, but I would like to start by ensuring that I know where we are at the moment. Please correct me if I'm wrong, but my understanding is that both of you were on a mission to find the person or persons responsible for killing Jedi and both of you were captured by the criminal Brev Wortok." They waited for dual nods. "In your case, Qui-Gon, you had been deliberately targeted by Wortok because he blamed you for putting him in prison when he was younger, although you had been trying to do him a favor. Obi-Wan, you were captured essentially as a hostage."

"That is my understanding of the situation as well," said Obi-Wan.

Peloss nodded. "You were able to communicate telepathically even though both of you wore Force-restraint collars, Obi-Wan was put to work but not molested, and Qui-Gon was sexually assaulted multiple times. You were able to escape, to complete your mission and at this time neither of you has any physical injuries from that mission. Does that cover things so far?"

"Yes." Qui-Gon wondered how what he had endured could be encapsulated in such a short, clinical summary. He glanced surreptitiously at his mate, who had assumed a neutral expression. Their bond was quiet and he felt they were both still very much in a waiting mode.

"Thank you." Peloss took a sip of tea, letting the silence linger. "Gentlebeings, as bonded mates who shared very different experiences in captivity, you both have roles to play in the healing process we need to undertake - that is why I asked for the no off-planet mission restriction. I can make no promises other than it will likely not be easy, pleasant or short." They leaned forward, eyes intensifying. "Qui-Gon, I do appreciate that you are in a difficult position, emotionally and psychologically. I need to ask you a question."

Qui-Gon felt a flinch in his shoulders and his breath was suddenly tight. He swallowed before answering. "What is your question?"

"I know you are in a bad place right now. Where do you want to be and how badly do you want to get there?"

Qui-Gon froze. He couldn't speak – his brain refused to function. What did he want? He wanted to bury the memories of what had happened, he wanted to sleep and never dream, he wanted –

A wisp of anxiety leaked across the bond with his mate. He blinked, forced his head to turn and his eyes to look at Obi-Wan.

The neutral mask had slipped if you knew where to look, and Qui-Gon saw traces of pain, of need, of ? Fear? But underlying all of that, determination.

Obi-Wan shifted, raised his head and looked squarely at Qui-Gon.

I will be here for you. Always.

Time snapped back into existence for Qui-Gon with a little shiver. He blew out the breath he didn't know he'd been holding in.

"I want to return to stability, to be able to feel, to touch and be touched without fear, to stop re-living those things that happened and to love Obi-Wan. In all ways." Qui-Gon nodded. "That is what I want."

"We have an end goal. That will be a good thing to remember and to work toward." Peloss leaned back. "We need to discuss a few starting things. You share quarters, yes?"

"Yes." Obi-Wan jumped in. "But I will do whatever is needed to help. Should I move out?"

No, Qui-Gon wanted to shout, but he remembered the previous evening and bit his lower lip. He felt Peloss's gaze on him but couldn't meet it.

"I would suggest that a temporary, and I emphasize temporary, separation might be useful until we get a little further along. That does not mean you should stop seeing each other, quite the contrary, in fact. Eat together, exercise together, spend some time simply talking or just being in the same room. A tenday, or perhaps two, and we can re-evaluate the situation. A gradual transition back would probably be helpful – we could have two beds put in your rooms for a while as part of that transition. What do you think, Qui-Gon?"

Qui-Gon felt a rush of relief that he would not have to sneak around his own rooms to keep hiding his tattoos and immediately felt guilty.

"Obi-Wan, you don't have to do this…" One look at his mate's stubborn 'are you serious' expression and he faltered. "I have to admit it would help. Just for a while, of course… until I can get some things worked out."

"That's settled then. I'll take care of the details."

"Thank you, Obi-Wan."

"Good. A few more things I need to discuss. You both need to be aware that there is generally a progression of phases for most beings after an experience such as Qui-Gon endured. First is the acute phase, which can last days or weeks. You are still caught up in the experience, Qui-Gon. There are various symptoms, which can include numbness, shock, edginess, difficulty sleeping or eating, stomach or headaches, even nightmares. We will have to work through that to the reorganization phase – that is when you will begin to resolve and integrate issues. Our goal in that phase is to move from victim to survivor as you begin to regain control of your life. We also need to consider the emotional and physical impacts. You may still have long-term or recurring issues such as depression, anger, shame and guilt as well as social and sexual problems. Physically, the fear of touching or being touched is a frequent symptom and you may at times have physical pain, such as backaches.

"Obi-Wan, it is normal for a mate or close other to be caught up in feelings of guilt, rage and helplessness. You will want to help and support Qui-Gon, and, particularly in the beginning, it may seem that he is pushing you away while he is trying to heal. You will need to be patient and work together. Remind him to eat, fix his favorite tea, listen to his rants if he opens up to you, respect his triggers as he identifies them, look for things you can safely do together that give both of you pleasure."

Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan looked at each other, then nodded.

"We will be meeting several times a week, either together or individually, so we will need to coordinate our sessions once you have your work assignments. The two of you are my first priority; I will set aside whatever time of day is necessary. We have a meeting tomorrow at fourteenth hour and I have a homework assignment for both of you."

"Homework?" Obi-Wan lifted an eyebrow. "Are you going to be quite the taskmaster?"

"Yes, I am well-known for making people work hard to help themselves. Pushy Pelly, that's me." They smiled. "I want each of you to think about the circumstances that led to you becoming a captive and whether or not there was anything you could have done differently to avoid it. Don't take it any further than that yet. If there are no questions, I'd like to see Qui-Gon alone for a few minutes."

"I don't have any questions. Qui-Gon, I'll go arrange for a room and pack some things."

"I have a room for you." Peloss reached into her tunic, pulled out a datacard and tossed it to Obi-Wan.

"I will have to say I admire your effic- " Obi-Wan stopped short, stared at the card. "This is a master's room. I shouldn't be using this."

"It is vacant and conveniently only six doors down from your shared quarters. Yes, you will use it, both of you when you feel like it, until I say otherwise. Healer's orders."

"Yes, Master Peloss." Obi-Wan bowed. "I will say that I admire not only your efficiency but also your pull with the quartermaster." He smiled.

"Pushy Pelly, remember?" They put a finger to their nose. "And I bake them cookies."

Obi-Wan laughed. "I'll have to remember that. Qui-Gon, I'll go move some of my things. Dinner at nineteenth hour? The refectory should be pretty empty by then."

"That will be quite acceptable. Thank you, Obi-Wan."

The room was quiet until Obi-Wan was gone.

"He's a good man," said Peloss.

"He is. I'm fortunate to have had him." Qui-Gon hesitated. "I meant, to have him. I love him."

"I understand. You are a good man as well, Master Qui-Gon Jinn. I am going to help you remember that. I have a few questions, and some guidance."

"Yes?" Qui-Gon tensed and his tone was wary.

"Your captivity. Physical coercion was used?"

"Initially, but not extensively except for confinement in a small space. After Obi-Wan was captured, they threatened to hurt him if I did not… cooperate."

"You were raped? Repeatedly?"

Qui-Gon's throat tightened and his breath caught at the bluntness of the question. He simply nodded.

"We will help you own that word so it does not own you. It won't be easy, but you will not have to do this alone. The way forward is difficult, but also flexible. It is your experience, so you get to feel whatever emotions come to you – anger, sadness, fear, numbness. You will have to recognize what is happening to you, claim it, process it and regain your agency so you can move on. You don't have to tell anyone except me if that is your desire, but we will be talking about how you progress, and I want to include Obi-Wan so he can heal also. For example, I noticed that you seemed to feel both guilty and relieved about Obi-Wan temporarily moving out. Why was that?"

Qui-Gon started to shake his head, but even though he couldn't meet their gaze, he felt like their eyes were looking into him. He made himself smaller and managed to get words out. "I did and still do feel guilt about things I did not tell Obi-Wan. I knew he would worry… it seemed pointless for both of us to suffer."

"And is one of the things you haven't told him easier to deal with if he's not present?"

"Ummm…. there are… tattoos. The healers said it would take time to properly and safely remove them all. I didn't want Obi-Wan to see them."

"Alright. That will just be something we need to resolve along the way. At some point, you either will or will not be ready to tell Obi-Wan. Have you been able to meditate at all?"

"I haven't really tried." Qui-Gon was grateful that Peloss seemed to have a very matter-of-fact approach. "I've been tired, kind of numb. I think I blanked out all morning. Nothing really seems to matter to me."

"Ah, yes. Don't worry too much about the meditation at the moment – you will probably feel unsettled in your relationship with the Force for a while until you feel better about yourself. But the numbness, that is a very common reaction. I remember it very well. Sort of like walking about in a heavy fog for a while, that was."

"What?" Qui-Gon blinked a few times, not sure of what he had heard. "You remember…?"

"Qui-Gon, not to brag, but I am a very good Soul Healer. I am also a rape survivor, however, so I tend to end up with those recovery patients. I have heard and seen a great deal as well as experienced it; if knowing that helps you to become more willing to discuss what happened to you, then I don't mind you knowing, although I'd prefer you not be broadcasting that to the entire Temple. What I do need to emphasize to you is that your experience is unique, and you are the only one who can truly understand and acknowledge your relationship to that experience."

Qui-Gon slowly nodded. "I appreciate your confidence." He sighed. "This is going to be very hard. I'm not going to like it, am I?"

"Now you're starting to get it." Peloss smiled. "Yes, it's going to be painful and you may hate me many times over before we're through, but we'll keep going because you deserve to have that wonderful young man back." They stood up. "Now, your job for tonight is to think about when you were captured, eat some food, try to get some sleep and start sorting out things to keep you busy so you don't have time to sit around. Clear?"

"Yes, Master Peloss." Qui-Gon rose, gave a bow and a half-smile. "Clear."

"Good. See you tomorrow at fourteenth hour."

*** *** ***

Qui-Gon had another restless night, but did manage a few hours of sleep. He made an attempt to meditate, but his heart wasn't in it yet. Obi-Wan stopped by and inveigled Qui-Gon into joining him in his temporary quarters for a simple breakfast. Qui-Gon was actually impressed that Peloss had managed to not only get his mate a nearby room, but a suite with a padawan room and a large fresher. Afterward, they went for a long walk around the gardens before stopping in the main salle to watch training classes for initiates and junior padawans.

Lunch was a dismal affair; Qui-Gon had no appetite and Obi-Wan clearly did not want to push.

They entered Peloss's office together just before the hour. It was a pleasant, airy space with a desk in one corner, two sofas interspersed with three armchairs in another corner and a wide armchair with a side table across from the other seats. A table in the middle held tea, juices, fruit and biscuits.

"Please make yourself comfortable, gentlebeings." Peloss was already sitting cross-legged, bootless, in the wide chair and waved them in. They had a glass of a red juice and a small plate of biscuits.

Obi-Wan poured tea for Qui-Gon and himself and they settled into their respective seats, Qui-Gon in an armchair and his mate on the sofa next to it.

"Today I would like to get an understanding of the events and timeline when your mission started to go wrong. It would be helpful to know what you were feeling, not just events. Obi-Wan, please start us off."

Obi-Wan looked a little surprised, but calmly began speaking. He didn't have all that much to tell – Qui-Gon's ship was reported missing, he continued his undercover role until his ship was attacked, he was gassed and woke up a day later with the Force restraining collar on.

"It might have been a day and a half later. I was pretty muzzy and nauseous from the after-effects of the gas and being blocked from the Force. Anyway, next thing I knew, I had been blindfolded, hands manacled behind my back and was being marched somewhere." Obi-Wan stopped and seemed to be gathering his thoughts as his fingers tapped lightly on the arm of his chair. "When we came out of a lift, I thought I sensed something familiar. As we got further along, I knew it wasn't the Force, but even through the fog in my head, I was sure it was Qui-Gon." He took a slow breath, looked at his mate. "I don't think I have ever felt such a tremendous sense of relief in my life. I had been so worried about you, it was like a huge weight lifting off my shoulders. I was going to try to send a thought to you, but about then we went through a door and a guard slammed me back against a wall so hard I think I blacked out. I came to again when they threw water on me, and I heard Qui-Gon in my head."

"To say that I was initially confused about the situation is a huge understatement." Obi-Wan half turned in his chair to face Qui-Gon for a moment before facing front again. "I did sort it out after we talked that first night – Qui-Gon was a captive and I had been brought in as a hostage to ensure each other's cooperation. We play-acted that I had been sucking up to him to get my knighthood and wanted nothing more to do with him, so they did seem to believe that I didn't care what happened to Qui-Gon." Obi-Wan sighed. "Unfortunately, that still meant they could get to Qui-Gon by threatening to harm me. From that point forward, I was in a cell nearby, each day I went out with the other prisoners to work, each night we talked telepathically, and eventually we escaped. So, if I understand what you were asking for, there were about fifteen or so days from the time we lost contact with Qui-Gon until the time I became aware of his presence again after I was captured. I spent that time being worried but doing my job, I was elated to find Qui-Gon again, but after I was captured I worried about what was happening to him while I tried to find a way to escape."

Qui-Gon had been sitting quietly, his gut knotting up. He knew that, rationally, everything that had happened to him was over, it had always been a possible risk, he had been trained to handle that kind of situation. He had used that training and built one hell of a wall in his head that had enabled him to survive without breaking down.

Emotionally, though, none of that seemed to matter. He could distance himself but not forget what he had done, what had been done to him and how it had made him feel. He felt so dirty, so used, so angry at Brev, but also angry with himself for not being stronger.

"Qui-Gon?"

Qui-Gon realized that both Peloss and Obi-Wan were looking at him. "Sorry. You were saying?"

"I'd like very much to hear your side of things," said Peloss. They must have seen something in Qui-Gon's expression. "I know what is in your mission report, but it would be more helpful to hear it from you."

"Very well." Qui-Gon felt resentful that his opening gambit had been cut off, but he took a deep breath, blew it out and began.

The attack on the ship had been very professional and well-planned. Being kept in a box, finding out who his captor was, that his collar was also a shock device. His captor's plan to keep him for a long time, so he was fed and exercised. The apparent lack of concern about breaking him so cages, small or medium depending on his behavior, were used as punishment. Being brought out for his captor to examine and touch. Ownership marks (but no mention of the tattoos).

"The healers removed the piercings after we returned to the Temple, so that is no longer an issue."

The day Obi-Wan arrived. His mixed feelings about knowing Obi-Wan was safe but dread about what might happen to him if he made a mistake dealing with his captor. Knowing that he had to cooperate and his captor making it very clear what was required.

"From that day forward, Obi-Wan was next door in a cell, I was kept in a prison-type cell that replicated the one my captor had been in, I was fed, cleaned and exercised daily and did whatever was required until we were able to escape."

"I see." Peloss had been listening attentively, making an occasional note on her datapad.

Qui-Gon took a quick glance at Obi-Wan from the corner of his eye. Obi-Wan's expression was neutral, but there was a subtle skepticism and concern floating over their bond.

"Alright, I have what I need for now. Obi-Wan, thank you for coming today. I'll let you know when the next shared session will be. I do need to speak to Qui-Gon alone now."

Peloss waited until Obi-Wan had left before speaking again. They set their datapad on the table and leaned back in their chair.

"Qui-Gon, I have been studying your case. You underwent a significant period of abuse, and currently you are displaying symptoms of major posttraumatic stress, including anxiety, depression, intense memories of the abuse, poor self-image, guilt and trouble sleeping. This is a problem for you and also for your mate, since it is impacting him and your relationship with him. To resolve your issues, you are going to undertake prolonged exposure therapy. This therapy will help desensitize you to the trauma through repetitive exposures to your memories by repeatedly recounting what happened. We will also have you record your memories and listen to them. Before we continue, I need to ask you a few questions."

"Very well." Qui-Gon's gut was still twisting in knots. It was one thing to acknowledge their words, but quite another to think about actually doing what they had prescribed.

"You left out a lot of details about what happened during that first fifteen days before Obi-Wan arrived. Was that because you did not wish Obi-Wan to hear those details or because, in general, you did not wish to describe them at all?"

Qui-Gon felt himself go taut, his arms pulling in tight to his sides. He forced himself to take slow, even breaths as he considered the question for what seemed like an eternity, but was probably only a minute or so.

"There is probably some of both, but I think… mostly I'm not ready for Obi-Wan to know." Qui-Gon sighed, looked down. "I still feel bad about not telling him everything while we were there. I knew he was concerned, but I just couldn't bring myself to do that."

"Alright. I am very familiar with the training you received. What technique did you employ to keep your inner self distant from what was happening to your body?"

"The wall. I took each incident and made it a brick. For enduring the day-to-day issues, it was effective. It was quite thick by the time we escaped."

"I understand that Sergeant Dnaz was your primary 'caretaker', so to speak. Do you feel that you have issues or damaging memories of those interactions?"

Qui-Gon had to think about that one also, but he relaxed this time. "It was not pleasant, but on the whole he was not a major issue. In fact, he was very consistent in his treatment and ensuring that none of his people took any liberties. If anything, he understood even better than I that we needed to maintain an impersonal distance between us."

"Last question. Are you fully committed to your recovery and repairing your relationship with Obi-Wan? This is going to be difficult and you will need to apply yourself completely and honestly to this effort."

"Yes." Qui-Gon lifted his head and looked squarely at the soul healer. "The stakes are too important. I have to do this."

"Good." Peloss's demeanor was still compassionate but now with added briskness. "Given the length of time you were abused, we are going to tackle this in segments. The first segment is the same fifteen days we started with today. At our next session you are going to describe, in detail, what actually happened. We will also record that session for you to play back later. We will repeat that process until I determine you are ready to move on."

"And Obi-Wan?"

"I will meet with him separately to discuss only his issues, but I will not ask Obi-Wan to attend our sessions until you are ready to ask him to attend. That means you will have to confront that question and deal with it. I will be available to talk to you if you are having problems resolving it."

Qui-Gon took a very deep breath and then let it out very slowly. "I understand," he said quietly.

They spent several minutes discussing process and schedule. Qui-Gon was to return in two days, report on what additional activities he was undertaking and then start his first exposure therapy session.

That night Qui-Gon slept poorly again, his dreams dark.

*** *** ***

Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan met with Master Ghyron at mid-morning. He had messaged each of them the previous day with a list of potential activities.

"My priorities for you, Obi-Wan, are to fill some gaps in the upcoming training cycle that will also get you credit for your first five year's requirements. I've reviewed your records, and my recommendations are the advanced negotiations course and the tutoring position. That course is pretty intensive, lots of hands-on workshops, and we usually don't let first through third year knights take it, but given what you've already accomplished I will approve it for you if you want it."

"I looked at the syllabus. It appears challenging and I've heard good things about Master Sk'dogn. I'd like to take that."

"Done. That will take up two hours of your morning four days out of five and will have lots of homework."

"Okay. I'm not sure what this tutoring position is supposed to include."

"That's a program we've had for a long time. You would be assigned to a group of knights and masters without padawans. Over the course of the training cycle, you will be paired with a number of students to conduct individual tutoring. In your case, you will be required to work with both low and high performing students to work toward either improvements or challenges. We feel it helps remind our newer knights and older masters what our younger padawans are going through, a sort of 'generational' contact, and requires you to develop or improve your one-on-one skills. You may have to work at whatever times in the day the students have available."

Obi-Wan nodded thoughtfully. "That does sound interesting. I'm up for that."

"Done. Master Etku Doa will be contacting everyone in the group for an initial meeting." Ghyron made notes on his datapad before looking up again. "Since the next training cycle won't be starting until eight days from now, you'll have time to do an independent study project. Pick one from the list I sent, contact the instructor to discuss the requirements and a due date, then have it completed by that date. The instructor will annotate the completion in your records."

"I'll take care of that today."

"We do expect both of you to continue your sparring, katas and general conditioning work, of course. I want to make sure I'm leaving you time in your schedule for that, so if we need to adjust your workload let me know."

Qui-Gon nodded along with his mate, but he was also thinking of time he would need for his sessions with the Soul Healer.

"So, let's –"

"Sorry I'm late." A stocky, four-armed humanoid bustled in. "You haven't given them both away, have you? I did ask first."

"Gentlemen, this is Master Bqein." Ghyron smiled. "He's been importuning me for your services. I shall let him explain why."

"Yes, yes." Bqein was bald with an extensive dark red mustache which matched the hair peeking from the V of his tunic. "As deputy swordmaster, one of my responsibilities is to conduct programs to improve lightsaber skills. I am looking for skilled people, which the two of you undoubtedly are, to assist one to three afternoons out of five to evaluate and to spar for singles and teams. It would help you keep your own skills current and provide some grand opportunities to bash about some of our knights and senior padawans who think they are much better than they really are." He grinned, a wide-mouthed endeavor that revealed pointed incisors. "It's fantastic for stress relief and does wonders for reminding them about humility."

Qui-Gon couldn't help smiling at Bqein's infectious enthusiasm. He looked at Obi-Wan before answering; his mate was smiling, too. "I can't speak for Obi-Wan, but it sounds like something I could support. As you said, it would help me keep my own skills up and seems like a useful service."

"Sounds like fun. We'll need to see what the rest of our time looks like, of course, but I'm sure we could consistently fit in at least a few days."

"Excellent, excellent." Bqein was beaming. "I'll send you both the schedules for the next few tens and you can decide which sessions you want to help with." He stood up. "Now that that's settled, I'll leave you to it. Thank you very much." He stood, gave a jaunty half-salute and bustled back out.

"A good choice." Ghyron was still smiling. "I think you'll enjoy working with him." He looked down at his datapad a moment before continuing. "Now, Qui-Gon, I turned away the teaching positions you didn't want, but both the Creche Master and Gardens Master have offered opportunities you might be interested in. Your thoughts?"

"There are several activities I think would be good. It has been far too long since I've had time to 'get back to basics' and work with initiates, even for simple things like introductory katas, Force skills, reading to them or just watching over younglings. I also like the thought of working with my hands in caring for plants. Would it be possible to do some of both, since much of it is not tied to a regular training cycle?"

"That could be arranged, especially if you are willing to help in the early mornings or evenings."

"That might actually be for the best if I'm going to have to block out a lot afternoons for other commitments."

"Very well. I'll inform the Masters and we can set up a time for you to meet with them. Master Peloss also requested that I keep her informed about your assignments."

"That does not surprise me. They and I will need to coordinate times for my sessions, so I'm sure it will be helpful to understand what else I will be doing." Qui-Gon added, in his head, And I'm sure they want to make sure I'm not sitting around on my ass feeling sorry for myself.

"That takes care of everything I need for the moment. Unless you have other questions, I'll get the notifications taken care of so you'll be able to meet with the appropriate beings to get going."

"Thank you for your help," said Qui-Gon. Obi-Wan added his own thanks, and they departed.

*** *** ***

Qui-Gon's pace was deliberate as he approached Healer Hall for his mid-morning appointment. Although apprehensive, he had slept a little better – productive meetings with the Creche and Garden Masters promised to result in plenty of activities to fill out his time in addition to his sessions with Master Bqein and his own needs for katas and meditation. The Creche Master in particular was short-handed at the moment and was grateful for any type of assistance Qui-Gon was willing to offer.

At the entrance to the Soul Healer's areas, a padawan met him and asked him to wait, apologizing for the delay as a previous appointment was running late. Ten minutes later, a knight walked out, haggard and pale. Qui-Gon wondered briefly if he looked like that and just wasn't seeing it as the padawan returned a few minutes later to escort him inside.

"Good morning, Qui-Gon." Peloss gestured to the seats. "I have prepared one of my favorite teas. It is particularly relaxing if you would like to try it."

"Thank you. I will." Qui-Gon helped himself to a steaming mug of the light amber liquid before sitting in an armchair. He took a sip, nodding appreciatively at the slightly sweet, very lightly spiced tea that went down exceptionally smoothly.

Peloss settled into her usual cross-legged position on a plush chair across from Qui-Gon. They set her datapad on the side table next to her cup.

"How are you doing today?"

"A little better. There is a lot of work for me at the Creche and in the Gardens; I'm looking forward to getting started on that."

"Good. There is one thing I'd like to discuss before we start the actual therapy session."

Qui-Gon continued his sip of tea, but inside his heart almost skipped a beat. He had been ratcheting up his determination in anticipation of having to speak about the abuse, and he had to tightly pull back.

"And that is?"

"Your self-defense mechanism, the internal wall that you built. I want to make sure that I fully understood – you had to do that while the Force-restraining collar was in place, yes?"

"That is correct. I was cut off from the Force from the time I woke up after the gas attack until we escaped the confinement."

"How have you approached dismantling the wall?"

Qui-Gon blinked and let out the breath he had been unconsciously holding. "Umm… I haven't been actively trying to do that. I've been more concerned about the difficulty I've been having trying to fully center and focus for meditation." He furrowed his brow a moment. "Actually, I don't think they ever trained us on that part."

"It isn't part of the syllabus, although I've asked several times for it to be added." Peloss smiled. "I believe that wall, however, is related to your meditation issues. I've noticed some odd darkening in your aura, what appears to be a lessening of the integration of inner and outer self. The wall would explain much of that." They seemed to notice Qui-Gon's raised eyebrow. "That's a very specialized training I've had – even advanced Force users are seldom aware of the full nuances of auras. I did ask Obi-Wan, however, and even without training he thought something wasn't quite right about your Force signature. That could be a change he's sensing through your bonding."

Qui-Gon digested those thoughts for a moment, the information about his aura and that they had talked to Obi-Wan about him, before filing everything away. "Alright, what do you recommend I should do?"

"You built the wall by establishing a base and then using inciting incidents to add 'bricks'."

"Inciting incidents? Is that what they're calling it these days?" Qui-Gon couldn't help a wry smile. "But yes, that is what I did."

"In essence, then, you look for positive incidents and take the wall down, brick by brick. Hopefully, when you get to the foundation, we'll have come far enough along that you can dissolve that, or throw it into a figurative fire. I was very happy to see that you have opted to help with the crèche and the gardens. Those should both provide opportunities for you to have good experiences."

"I hope so. If nothing else, it will be good to feel useful."

"Indeed." Peloss smiled as they set a datapad onto the middle table. "Let's get on with our main business this morning. This datapad will record you as you speak. Please describe those first fifteen days aloud, including the day Obi-Wan arrived, using present tense and vivid details. You may begin whenever you are ready." They leaned back in their chair, expression neutral but compassionate.

Qui-Gon's nerves had snapped taut as the dreaded moment arrived. He took a few deep breaths, forced his hands to unclench. He closed his eyes.

"It is dark when I wake. The smothering mental blackness tells me my contact with the Force is gone. I have a headache that pounds in rhythm with my heart and my throat is dry…"

Qui-Gon's voice was soft but steady as he worked his way through his arrival, meeting Brev Wortok, understanding how his past attempt to do a good deed had horribly backfired, sickening guilt at the number of dead Jedi represented by the trophy case of lightsabers, Dnaz, the shock-collar demonstration, being washed, depilated, his new appearance matching that young knight.

"I'm looking around the room and I feel the first stirrings of true fear. There are chains on the walls, a metal frame, and what looks like a padded gymnastic horse but wider and not quite as high, with four legs that have shackles on them. There are chairs on a dais…"

Put in the steel frame, Gerdeth Jhocn, three days in the small cage, taken out finally, washed, an enema, the steel frame…

"The straps are tightened. I can feel the tendons in my arms and legs pulled taut. The technician pulls out the needle gun and I clamp my teeth into the thick guard. The needles are sharp, letter by letter, two words in the front. Above my left nipple is 'JEDI' and on the right is 'BITCH' in pitch black ink. It's even worse when she moves around behind me and I can't see what she is doing. The pain feels even sharper, just above the base of my spine she starts and I have to guess what the words are. I work out that it says 'BREV'S' on the first line and the second must be 'BITCH'." Qui-Gon swallows, takes a sip of cold tea. "The piercings, a bigger needle but she's fast. A ring through each nipple and then she takes the tip of my penis…"

A painful jog on the treadmill, discussion of cooperation, goes in the middle cage, food and water in bowls…

"I felt like an animal, but the threat of the shock collar and the small cage made feelings irrelevant. At least Dnaz sprays cold antiseptic on the tattoos and piercings. I begin to wonder about Dnaz… he's distant but I get the feeling he's perhaps more concerned about my survival than he wants to let on…"

Exercise and washing twice day, seems Brev really is serious about this being a long term situation, a long run, put on a leash, Brev licking, touching…

"I guess I haven't really taken it all in properly yet. I feel disgusted by what Brev is doing to me and I get caught by surprise when he puts a finger up my ass. I swing an elbow and next thing I know I'm down on the floor. The shock is incredible, it feels like I'm on fire, my nerves are screaming. I end up back in the small cage for three days. That's when I build the foundation of the wall, trapped in the darkness, sweating, trying to move to keep the cramps at bay…"

Finally out of the small cage, washed, run on treadmill, back in the frame, so thirsty, Brev taunting with a cold glass of water, licking, touching, lubed finger-fucking, when is the bastard going to stop, water at last. Two days in the medium cage, running, on a leash, touching, fondling, more finger-fucking, hold on, steady, steady, don't move, fed by hand, damn him, more bricks, Gerdeth gets in on the act making me drink juice, finally, back in the medium cage. I guess the pillow and blanket are supposed to be my reward for being a good bitch.

"The next day, it was deeply troubling how good a mood Brev was in. I'm on my hands and knees, a humbler was put on my balls with a piece that sits behind my thighs. Crawling around on a leash, I can feel him watching me." Qui-Gon's voice caught and he had to stop. His tea had been replenished and he gratefully two slow sips. Closed his eyes again, a deep breath, then he continued.

"I feel a presence coming. I think I know what it is as it seems to get closer. My gut clenches as the door opens and my worst fears are confirmed. It is Obi-Wan, blindfolded, hands shackled behind his back."

Mind speech, throw the bastards off, but Obi-Wan is still the hostage for my good behavior. Feel so helpless as they hit Obi-Wan, take him out but then see him in the cell next door. Brev has found his incentive, I have to do whatever he wants so they won't hurt Obi-Wan. Force forgive me for what I know I'm going to do.

"He calls me his good little Jedi bitch. Time to start paying for all those years Brev was in prison. I'm still in the humbler as I crawl to where Brev and Gerdeth are sitting on the dais. I kiss his crotch and both of them laugh. Brev opens his pants, takes his cock out. I kiss it and feel the bile creeping up the back of my throat. He demands a blow job, reminds me what will happen to Obi-Wan if I don't comply." Qui-Gon closed his eyes tighter, willing himself to continue. "I'm licking his cock, tip to root, sucking, licking, trying to keep from throwing up. I hear Gerdeth laughing. Brev's cock is getting harder, I suck some more, he gets close, he's grabbing my head. My gut is roiling as he cums, he makes me hold his cock in my mouth until the damned thing is soft, then I'm cleaning it with my tongue. My mind is racing as I wonder how far he's going to go and I'm almost grateful when he drags me over to the cell. Force, my balls are hurting from that damned humbler. I barely hear Brev talking, something about this is just like the cell he was in. I'm glad when he leaves and Dnaz takes the humbler off finally and attaches a chain to my collar. He puts fresh food and water in bowls near the door, locks the door. I go down to all fours to get water to wash my mouth out but I can still taste his cum. I collapse on the bunk and wait a little while, then I speak to Obi-Wan telepathically. We fill each other in on what's been happening, but I don't tell Obi-Wan that I had to suck Brev's cock. I'm feeling guilty as we end our conversation, guilty about what I'm not telling him and for knowing that I won't be able to endure if I talk to him too often, no matter how good it might make us both feel. I don't sleep well that night. There were a lot of bricks to add to the wall."

Qui-Gon slumped back into the chair, taking in several breaths through his nose and blowing them out through his mouth. He looked at Peloss.

"That's the end of the first fifteen days."

"You did very well, Qui-Gon," said Peloss softly. They retrieved the datapad, got up to pour more tea for both of them and gave Qui-Gon some sweet rolls. "These go particularly well with that tea."

They both ate quietly for a few minutes. Qui-Gon slowly felt himself decompressing.

"Better?"

"Yes, actually." Qui-Gon sighed. "That was one of the most difficult things I think I've ever had to do."

"It is difficult, especially the initial recounting. But this is the first big step in owning that experience and resolving your feelings about what happened so you can move forward."

"So what happens next?"

"We are going to focus on this initial segment. Every night you are to listen to the recording. Every day, whenever we can fit it into your schedule, you will return and describe the experience again. I will determine when we are ready to move into a new segment. I want you to stay active and be aware of when you have pleasant, positive experiences – try to use those to visualize removing bricks from your internal wall. Stay involved with Obi-Wan, even if it's just eating meals together or working together in the same room – he wants to help you and is frustrated that he can't do more. If you experience an action that causes you discomfort, that may be a trigger for you and we'll want to examine that. If you have bad dreams and want to talk about it, you have my private com number – I'm here to help you."

"I appreciate your assistance." Qui-Gon hesitated. "Is Obi-Wan… is he having problems with what happened? I don't want to hurt him, but I don't know when I'll be ready to go back to what we had before."

"Obi-Wan knows that you had a difficult time. He is aware that you were sexually abused, but not really to what extent. He wants to help, as I said, but is afraid to push and do the wrong thing. There is a certain amount of, I suppose the right word would be irritation, not quite anger, because he suspects how much you withheld even though intellectually he can understand why. At some point you will need to make a decision on how much to tell him or for both of you to agree to let that go."

Qui-Gon nodded. "I know. I have an awful lot of guilt to resolve about that, even though at the time I felt it was necessary because I wanted to protect both of us. Probably not the best decision I've ever made, but it's done and I need to deal with it."

"Acknowledging the problem is often half the battle, Qui-Gon, and taking the first step on a difficult path is a tremendous challenge. You have met that first challenge, so let's keep going." They stood up and brought the datapad with the recording to Qui-Gon.

"Alright." Qui-Gon stood up and accepted the 'pad. He nodded. "Until tomorrow."

Peloss nodded in turn and gave an encouraging smile. "Until tomorrow."

*** *** ***

Qui-Gon reported to the gardens for an afternoon of helping transplant bushes from one section to another. It was quiet, soothing work, and welcome for one so attuned to the Living Force. He had dinner with Obi-Wan, who was doing some preliminary read-aheads for his advanced negotiations course and was very enthused. He tried to meditate, which didn't go well, so he spend some time going back to basic principles of focusing and centering, which seemed to help.

Dutifully listening to the recording he had made earlier mostly just made him miserable again and led to internal recriminations about how much he had not told Obi-Wan. He finally managed to drop off to sleep about second hour.

The next five days were a mix of events. Qui-Gon had his daily sessions with Peloss and listened to his recording every night. He spent much of his time at the crèche as Obi-Wan finished his independent study project, prepared for the new training cycle and was assigned his first two students to tutor. They still made time to be together, whether it was for meals, sparring or katas.

Early one morning, Qui-Gon was watching over some of the youngest initiates, still babies or toddlers. One was teething and fretful, so Qui-Gon had taken the little girl from her crib and was rocking gently in one of the chairs provided for that purpose. Eventually she had quieted in his arms and he drowsed a bit himself. His attention was caught by a beam of sunlight coming into the room at dawn; it highlighted the bundle in his arms. Qui-Gon stared at the innocent peacefulness and carefully ran a finger along a chubby cheek. As he smiled, a brick in his wall crumbled to powder.

A late-afternoon run through the gardens with Obi-Wan was not so happy. It had been a fast run, enjoying the freedom to move and sweat. They had slowed to a walk to cool down, Qui-Gon a little ahead, and Obi-Wan had unthinkingly reached from behind to tap his shoulder. Qui-Gon jerked and spun around. He raised a hand to strike back before catching himself, then both of them stood for a long moment before they found themselves mumbling apologies and going separately back to their rooms. Qui-Gon had sat on his sofa, head in his hands, for almost half an hour before stirring himself to take a shower.

Another morning at the crèche. Qui-Gon had a group of younglings in the gardens, mostly about four to five years old. He sat with his back to a large tree, told them stories about the Force and they practiced very simple exercises with soft balls. They laughed and talked until the younglings were tired and they snuggled into the tall master in a heap of warm sleeping life. A whole row of bricks fell with a dusty 'sploof' as he held them in his arms.

Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan went to one of Master Bqein's teaching sessions. There was a young knight who was fast and strong, but arrogantly adamant about the quality of his skills. They video-recorded a session with Qui-Gon sparring and Obi-Wan analyzing. The knight's worst fault was telegraphing almost every move, and Bqein asked Qui-Gon to provide an extended lesson in why that was a bad idea. The master found it quite refreshing to have such free rein and gleefully 'bashed' the young knight, chasing him about the salle, disarming him four times and putting him on his butt as he sputtered and complained. The knight was very quiet, however, after Obi-Wan's scathing review of the video. Bqein thanked them both profusely and assured them they had gone a long way toward probably saving the young idiot's life someday.

The repetitions Qui-Gon made under Peloss's watchful eye did seem to be having an effect. Qui-Gon was beginning to find that the words seemed to have less meaning and less impact. He could talk about being finger-fucked and sucking Brev Wortok's cock almost impartially by the fifth morning.

At dinner that evening, Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan went to the refectory to eat with some friends. Plo quietly asked how Qui-Gon was doing but didn't pursue the topic, accepting Qui-Gon's brief comment of 'getting better'. As they lingered over dessert, Obi-Wan was telling an animated story about a mission mishap. Qui-Gon couldn't help watching his mate's elegant hands, his eyes following their movements. He had always loved those hands, so very talented in expressing Obi-Wan's thoughts, massaging a sore muscle or arousing his lover. He stared, thinking about nights they had shared and things those hands had done to him, but he was disturbed that he didn't feel he deserved those hands anymore. He took those feelings back to his room with him; they kept him awake for many hours.

Qui-Gon awoke very early on the sixth morning. He did some stretching exercises and then took a long shower. After the shower, he stood naked in front of a full mirror on the door.

He had been avoiding mirrors since his return, not wanting to think about what he would see. This time, he forced himself to slowly look from his head to his toes, then took a hand mirror and turned around to examine the back of his body. He turned again. The holes from the piercings were completely gone, but the tattoos stood out in dark relief. Qui-Gon looked at his face. His hair and beard tended to grow slowly and he didn't look so very different from when they had escaped. It reminded him far too much of what had happened there.

"I have to start making things right with Obi-Wan," he said to his reflection. "That has to be part of making things right with myself. I love him. I want him back, but I can't do that if I don't tell him the truth. No matter how much it hurts, I have to do the right thing."

Qui-Gon went out to the common room, stood at the data terminal and sent out two messages.

He returned to the bathroom. He stared at his reflection again before getting out his shaving gear and a pair of scissors. He shaved off all his facial hair, then carefully cut his hair short in back and on the sides. Qui-Gon surveyed the results.

"Well, it's a start."

An hour later, the Temple was still barely awake when Qui-Gon approached Peloss's office. A sleepy padawan ushered him down the hall and indicated he should go in.

Obi-Wan and Peloss were already there.

"Qui-Gon?" Obi-Wan stood up. "Are you alright?"

"Not yet, but hopefully getting there. I apologize for requesting such an early session, but I needed to do this before I lose my nerve."

"It's quite alright." Peloss waved to the center table. "I thought some strong tea might be good to get us going."

Everyone helped themselves to mugs of tea, biscuits and warm meatrolls before settling into chairs, or in Obi-Wan's case, the sofa next to his mate's chair. They spent a few minutes soothing their morning hunger.

"Unless there is something you wish me to say first, the floor is yours, Qui-Gon."

"Thank you." Qui-Gon turned to look at Obi-Wan. "For several days, we've been going over that first fifteen days after I was captured. There were things I did not tell you, Obi-Wan, and for that I profoundly apologize. You are my love and a Jedi knight; you deserved to know and it was selfish of me to treat you as I did, but I was ashamed of what was being done to me. I want you to know what happened then, and when I'm ready to move on, also the events from that time until we were able to escape."

"You don't have to do this. I will still love you no matter what you decide."

"No, I need to do this or I don't know if I will ever feel right about us."

"Very well. I know this isn't easy and I appreciate it."

"Thank you."

Qui-Gon took a few deep breaths, straightened his shoulders, then launched into the now-familiar words.

As he spoke, Qui-Gon found that he didn't need to close his eyes and, although still hurtful, the rendition was becoming almost rote sounds rather than personal wounds. He glanced occasionally at Obi-Wan, but his mate's expression was sympathetic with only a few winces at the instances of abuse.

"And so, you know what we spoke about that first night. You know now what I didn't tell you, and that set the pattern for the even worse things that happened later."

"That was very helpful, and I know I can't even begin to fully understand what all this is costing you." Obi-Wan's expression turned thoughtful. "It does help explain why you went to such lengths not to let me see you after we escaped. Were the healers able to… umm…" He waved a hand.

"The piercings are gone." Qui-Gon stood up. He removed his outer tunic and tabards, then slowly took off the loose undertunic. "The tattoos will take a little longer." He turned around in a slow circle until he was facing his mate again. He swallowed hard. "I wanted you to see them." He set his jaw as he waited for Obi-Wan's reaction, barely breathing.

Obi-Wan rose. He moved to just within arm's length and spent a moment scrutinizing the words. The tip of his tongue peeked out of the corner of his mouth for a moment. He raised a hand, hesitated.

"May I?" He tilted his head back a little to look up.

"Yes." Qui-Gon forced his shoulders to relax, pulled in his lower lip just far enough to bite it and waited.

The contact was electric. Two fingers on the 'J' in JEDI sent sparks through Qui-Gon's gut and across their bond. Both men sucked in a hard breath, then gasped.

Obi-Wan looked up, locking eyes with Qui-Gon as he sent soothing reassurance over their bond.

Qui-Gon nodded. He gave a tight little smile. _It's okay. It's good_.

Obi-Wan kept their bond open as he shifted his gaze to follow his fingers. Two fingers began tracing the tattoos on his mate's chest.

Qui-Gon felt an odd impression, almost an echo through their bond of what Obi-Wan was seeing. He felt no fear as only compassion and curiosity accompanied the echo.

Letter by letter, a slow, measured exploration until Obi-Wan was on the 'H' in BITCH. He let his fingers rest there.

_May I?_

Qui-Gon swallowed hard. Touching his back seemed to be one of his trigger points, but earlier problems had been from unexpected contact. He wanted the connection, even if it was just two fingers. It was worth the risk. He raised both arms.

_Yes._

Obi-Wan very carefully kept touching skin as he moved around behind Qui-Gon. He let his full hand rest in the middle of Qui-Gon's back as his mate lowered his arms.

_I'm behind you. Are you okay?_

Qui-Gon felt muscles twitching and tiny beads of sweat forming on his temples. He took two deep breaths and let them out slowly.

_I'm good. Keep one hand right there._

_I will._

Qui-Gon closed his eyes and focused on the sensations: soft pressure from one hand, the light touch of two fingers as they traced letters, one at a time, the physical presence oh so close, the sound of shallow breathing. There was a constant warm support over their bond. He had missed that more than he had realized.

Eventually Obi-Wan completed his exploration. Qui-Gon felt a forehead rest briefly on his upper back, then retreat.

"I'm stepping back and coming around." Obi-Wan waited a moment for an acknowledgement, then moved. He stood in front of Qui-Gon, hands at his sides, and bowed. "Thank you for allowing me that knowledge."

Qui-Gon nodded, suddenly at a loss for words. He quickly dressed, got a fresh mug of tea and sat down. He took two sips of tea before looking at Peloss.

"Progress."

"Yes, excellent progress, for both of you. Is this the first time you have actively used your bond and telepathic speech since you've been back?"

Qui-Gon thought a moment. "Except briefly the first day or two, I think it is. I've been so focused on myself I didn't realize that."

"I didn't want to push." Obi-Wan's voice was soft, apologetic as he put his hands under his thighs. "We used to talk every night in that place… I didn't know if that would cause you distress."

"Oh." Have I been that damned oblivious? "I'd like to start again. That was one of the few good things that happened." Qui-Gon glanced at Peloss. "How could you tell?"

"There was an unusual flicker in both of your auras." They smiled. "A good one. It also seems to me that you have been making headway in taking down your inner wall."

"Yes. Much of it is still there, but I can feel the improvement." Qui-Gon gave a half-smile. "Positive experiences do indeed counteract the negative bricks."

"More good progress. I am very encouraged by how proactive you have been, Qui-Gon. How do you feel about moving on to the next segment?"

"Ummm…" Qui-Gon's throat went tight and his heart raced. He hadn't thought very much past getting through this session. "What do you consider a 'segment'?"

"Actually, that is something we will need to discuss. If I deciphered your mission report correctly, it appears to me that from the time you were captured, we had the initial fifteen days that we've already covered. From that point it seems to be another forty-two days until you escaped, then there were those last few days setting up the trap for Wortok. It is fairly clear what Obi-Wan was doing since he was working most of that time." Peloss raised an eyebrow. "It is, however, very unclear what was happening to you. A general comment that essentially said 'abuse happened' is very unhelpful. We're obviously not dealing with a situation where there was just one or a few times of being raped. Therefore, you need to help me determine what you believe would be appropriate segment lengths and why. I don't want to overload you with more than you can reasonably handle at one time."

"Alright. Let me think about that for a bit."

"Of course."

There was a soft silence as Peloss seemed to retreat to a reserved but watchful state. Obi-Wan moved a little further away on his sofa and averted his gaze.

Qui-Gon rubbed flat hands on the arms of his chair as he stared at but didn't see a point somewhere beyond Peloss's left ear. He let his shoulders fall, his elbows held close. His eyes drifted partially shut as he let his voice speak his wandering thoughts.

"Forty-two days… that can seem like forever or nothing. I can remember most of them even when I don't want to… but segments? How to divide forty-two days?" Qui-Gon drifted a while as his hands quieted. "I'm having trouble with dividing because I didn't experience it as forty-two different days. There were times when it was mostly the same thing for several days. There were certain hours that felt like an eternity." He took an exceptionally deep breath, held it, then let it out very slowly. He felt himself jolt into focus as he straightened in his chair.

"What if I want to do the whole thing?"

"All forty-two days in one session? Are you sure that's wise?"

"There were stretches of three to ten days when it did feel like almost the same thing every day." If Peloss could use tough words like rape, so could he, damnit. "Every morning the same, evenings only differentiated by whether I was being fucked or giving blow jobs or both. There were other days when worse things happened, things beyond just being fucked." Qui-Gon couldn't look at Obi-Wan but felt pain over their bond before it closed down. He charged on. "You told me my experience was unique and I need to own it for myself. Those relatively few specific events… yes, those will be hard, but it's all part of one long nightmare. I WANT to own it, to make it stop owning me, so I can get back to being me again."

He finally turned to look at his mate, who was staring at the floor. "I want, no, I NEED to be me again so I feel like I deserve to have Obi-Wan back. I will not let that son-of-a-bantha take Obi-Wan away from me."

Obi-Wan raised his head and shifted to face Qui-Gon. His eyes had morphed to a dark gray shade of blue with a hint of water and his mouth was grim. "I love you. What can I do to help?" A corner of his mouth quirked up a tiny bit. "Or at least keep from screwing things up?"

Qui-Gon felt the love as their bond opened up and his throat went tight. He had to pull in several open-mouth ragged breaths before he could answer.

"Be there… be patient." Qui-Gon hesitated. "I want you to know what happened, but I'll understand if you don't want to hear it."

"I want to know. For me, that's part of being there for you," said Obi-Wan. "I do have to say that it's probably a good thing Brev Wortok is locked away. Even now, without hearing about the rest, I want to beat the shit out of him." He looked at Peloss. "Sorry, I know that's not very Jedi-like."

"But it is very human. And very normal." Peloss gave him a comforting smile. "That sort of emotion is something you will have to work through, but that is part of the process of healing."

They turned to Qui-Gon. "What you are proposing would be a very intensive experience, especially this early in your recovery. Today was definitely a strong step forward, a little faster than I had hoped, but do you think it wise to plunge head-first into such a deep, dark hole?"

"Perhaps not wise, but necessary." Qui-Gon leaned forward, forearms on his thighs. "If the recitation gets to a point that I can't handle, I will stop. That then becomes the next segment and I'll repeat that until I'm ready to move on again."

Peloss tilted her head slightly and appeared to be considering the proposal. Finally, they nodded. "We can work with that. I want you to take the rest of today and tomorrow to rest, work on your wall, try to meditate. You don't have to forego any of your scheduled activities, in fact I encourage your work in the Creche." They consulted a datapad. "This next session is likely to be lengthy. Can both of you clear your schedule for fourteenth hour the day after tomorrow? I'd like to have three hours, although we might not need that much."

Both men nodded.

"Do either of you have any questions? No? Thank you both for coming and I'll see you at the next session. If you have any questions or concerns in the meantime just contact me."

*** *** ***

Out in the corridor, Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan stopped.

"Are you alright?" asked Obi-Wan.

"Tired, mostly. I need to process what happened to fully understand it." Qui-Gon gave a wan smile.

"I've got to get ready for my morning class and I've got three students this afternoon plus my own homework. I could pick up something from the refectory for a late dinner if you want to come to my quarters."

"I'd like that. Thank you. Ummm…" Qui-Gon scuffled one toe, feeling oddly uncertain. "Would you mind very much if we went out to the gardens afterward? I don't want to take up too much of your time, but I'd like to try to meditate and I was thinking, or hoping, that if you were also there it might be helpful."

"Of course I will." Obi-Wan grinned. "Probably be good for both of us. I'll give you a call when dinner is ready." He gave a cheery salute and moved off quickly.

Qui-Gon had another half-hour so he walked slowly to the Creche. He went to the back of the building where they had a training salle with a padded floor; it also doubled as an indoor play area. An additional layer of mats had been laid down in one corner. He went to a row of benches along one wall, sat down and took off his boots, then stripped down to just leggings and a soft undertunic.

"Good morning, Master Jinn." A cheery female humanoid shepherded in a group of chattery initiates of various species; they were aged nine and ten. She appeared to be quite old with white hair, many wrinkles and a slight limp.

"Good morning, Master Fon." Qui-Gon bowed.

Fon clapped her hands twice and there was silence. "Master Jinn will be assisting me this morning with our Clawmouse Clan activities."

"Good morning, Master Jinn," the children chorused.

"We shall begin with our basic katas."

For the rest of the morning, Qui-Gon worked with the clan. They did basic katas, simple movements repeated many times. Mid-morning saw a rousing game with lots of running and chasing of balls; after they were sufficiently tired they took a short nap on the mats, nestled among each other and the two masters. The morning finished with soft discussions and practice using the Force to pass objects back and forth. Another full row of bricks had dissolved in puffs of smoke by the time they finished.

After lunch, Qui-Gon spent a quiet afternoon in the Gardens doing basic maintenance such as feeding, weeding and cleaning. It was late when he finished and returned to his quarters. He was just dressing after a shower when Obi-Wan contacted him.

_Qui-Gon. Are you ready to eat?_

_Give me five minutes and I'll be over._

_Okay._

They chatted about their respective days over a dinner of salad, stew and fruit tarts. They cleaned up and left for the gardens.

"It was very peaceful working with initiates. They are still so innocent and just finding their way in the Force. I find I have the most progress in bringing down my inner wall when I'm with them."

"That's good to hear." Obi-Wan pointed to a secluded grassy area among some trees. "How's this?"

They settled onto their knees, a few feet apart and facing each other.

Obi-Wan quickly sank into his meditation, eyes closed and breathing soft and even.

Qui-Gon attempted to follow, but was still having problems fully centering. Rather than chase the elusive goal, he chose to remember the feelings and emotions from his morning session. Basic, simple and clear… he quieted his breathing and let his focus form. Slowly the Force came to him and he released himself into its welcome embrace.

"Qui-Gon?"

The low query pulled Qui-Gon reluctantly back from his meditation. He had finally been starting to feel that he was regaining part of what he had lost. Now, though, he at least felt that he could find that path again. He realized that the bond with his mate was warm, thrumming with love and concern. He sighed as he opened his eyes.

"Are you well? You looked so peaceful I didn't want to bring you back, but it's been an hour."

"An hour already?" Qui-Gon raised an eyebrow. "That is by far the longest time I've managed since our return." He stood and stretched, wincing a bit as his knees complained. "My body is out of practice." He gave a wry smile.

"We'll just have to keep working on it then, won't we?" Obi-Wan grinned.

"We will."

'We' was a comforting word, and Qui-Gon looked forward to the time when they could truly be 'we' again in all ways.

*** *** ***

Qui-Gon spent much of the next day assisting with the youngest initiates, babies and toddlers just finding their way. The last part of the afternoon he was re-united with Obi-Wan to serve as demonstrators for Master Bqien's class on team sparring. He managed to stay in the moment all day, but by evening he found his thoughts continually turning back to the anticipated ordeal of the following afternoon.

He sat at his table for a while with a datapad. Trying to stay detached, he outlined what he had come to think of as the fragments or subdivisions of his time. Two days of this, four days of that, the couple of ten-day periods and the worst individual episodes. Anxiety began warring with his determination to attack this monster and defeat it.

_Qui-Gon? Are you alright?_

_Sorry. Was I leaking over the bond?_

_Sort of. Impressions, feelings, that sort of thing._

Qui-Gon sat for a moment, trying to marshal his thoughts.

_May I come over?_

_Of course, any time. The door is keyed to let you in._

_Ten minutes. Thank you._

He sat for a few minutes, palms together, tips of his fingers supporting the bridge of his nose. Qui-Gon stood abruptly, then used the fresher before searching the coldbox. He gave a small cry of triumph when he found his prize. Before he could change his mind, he wrapped the bottle in a small towel and left.

Into the hall, six doors to his left. Qui-Gon stood for almost a minute before touching his palm to the lockpad and going in.

Obi-Wan looked up from a stack of datapads on his table and smiled.

"I'm sorry." Qui-Gon wanted to smack himself for his obtuseness. "I didn't intend to bother you while you're working."

Obi-Wan stood up and came toward his mate. "I needed a break so you are most welcome." He glanced at the towel-covered bottle and raised an eyebrow.

"I, umm… I remembered we had this bottle of wine we brought back a few missions ago…" Qui-Gon was uncharacteristically lost for words as he wasn't entirely sure what he was trying to accomplish, just that he had a sense of needing to be here.

Obi-Wan took the bottle and slipped the towel off. "The sembis! I had forgotten about it as well. Have a seat and I'll get the glasses. I think I have some cheese and crackers, too."

Qui-Gon waffled a few moments as he listened to Obi-Wan bustling about in the small kitchenette. He stared at the usual couch and armchair in the common area, then marched himself over and sat on one side of the couch.

Obi-Wan didn't miss a beat when he came out with a plate, two glasses and the opened bottle. He put everything on the low table in front of the couch, poured two glasses of wine and managed to appear nonchalant when he sat down on the other half of the couch about two feet away from Qui-Gon.

They chatted casually, remarking on the wine, the planet they had found it on, then the afternoon's sparring demo.

Qui-Gon was glad he had come, but couldn't quite relax, feeling an edge that he didn't like and sensing happiness but also a wary tension over their bond. It shouldn't be that way between them, he didn't want it to be that way between them, being hyper aware of Obi-Wan's physical presence and his mate being careful not to move too fast or get too close.

Twenty minutes later, Qui-Gon couldn't stand it any longer. As Obi-Wan was reaching for the cheese plate, he practically grabbed his hand and held it.

The contact sent sparks down his back and into his gut. Qui-Gon inhaled sharply, then forced himself to relax. He daringly slid over a little closer so their hands weren't hanging together at arm's length. He looked at Obi-Wan and nodded; Obi-Wan mirrored his movement.

They sat silently for a long moment, close enough for their hands to be clasped together between them on the couch but with nothing else touching.

"Feels nice," ventured Obi-Wan.

"Yes." Qui-Gon looked down at their hands and realized it was true. Several bricks went 'poof'. "It feels very good. I have missed this." He looked at Obi-Wan. "I have missed you, being with you. I know it hasn't been easy for you, either. I'm sorry."

"Qui-Gon, love, you have done nothing to apologize for. None of what happened was your fault. It was horrible and you need time to recover. I understand that. We'll both get through this together."

They sat together in silence again. Each would occasionally take a sip of wine with their other hand.

Qui-Gon drained the last of his wine. He stared down into the empty glass.

"Obi-Wan…"

"Hmmm?"

"You are going to hear a lot of very bad things tomorrow."

"I had assumed that to be the case. In a way, though, it will be a big relief to know instead of just imagining the worst." Obi-Wan tightened his grip on his mate's hand a moment. "And don't start apologizing again. You had to do what you thought best at the time. It probably was best I didn't know everything – I would have been thinking too much about that and not concentrating enough on how to get us out."

Qui-Gon had been about to do that very thing, so he bit back the words and sighed instead. "I love you."

"And I love you, too. I will be there for you tomorrow."

"I appreciate that." Qui-Gon sat forward. "I should try to get some sleep." He leaned sideways and brushed his lips across Obi-Wan's knuckles, a barely there caress, before releasing his hand and standing up. "I'll see myself out."

*** *** ***

The hours seemed to stretch interminably the next day. Qui-Gon went on a long early morning run with Obi-Wan, then took a leisurely shower. He helped in the garden all morning rather than the crèche, feeling that his edgy tension would probably not be good for initiates to be around. After another shower to remove dirt and sweat, he forced himself to eat a bowl of soup for lunch as he listened to the recording of his first fifteen days. He found it calming that the words about his initial experience no longer had the power to hurt.

As fourteenth hour approached, Qui-Gon met Obi-Wan coming into the waiting area and they were immediately taken to the Soul Healer's office. He let his mate enter first, waited a moment as Obi-Wan sat on a couch, then deliberately seated himself on the other half of the couch rather than on an armchair as he had previously been doing.

Peloss had laid out two kinds of tea, a plate of biscuits and a plate of soft cakes. Everyone helped themselves to a mug of tea and some snacks.

"It seems we have made some progress. How are things going with you, Qui-Gon?"

"The wall is coming down a little more every day. Two nights ago we went out into the gardens and I had a successful meditation. Last night I visited Obi-Wan at his quarters; we had some wine," Qui-Gon glanced at Obi-Wan, who was sitting serenely, "and we held hands for a bit. It felt very good. Oh, and I had a message that I can make an appointment to start the removal process for the tattoos."

"That all sounds excellent. And you, Obi-Wan?"

"I've been staying busy. Any progress that Qui-Gon has makes me happy. I do feel like things are starting to get better."

"Very good. Qui-Gon, do you still wish to move forward and cover everything that happened?"

"Yes. I have listened to the first recording, and every time it simply sounds more and more like a story that happened to some else. I am very aware that what comes next is worse, but it is a combination of the daily pains and some very specific incidents. I want to capture the whole thing, but if I get to a point that I can't continue, I'll stop and that becomes the piece I have to get through before we continue. Because of the length, I don't expect to detail every hour of every day."

"Very well, a reasonable position. Remember, first person, vivid details, how are you feeling as these things are happening. If Obi-Wan was part of an incident or you spoke of an incident together, you may ask him for corroboration or his remembrance of the event." They set a datapad on the table near Qui-Gon. "It will start recording when you start speaking." They made a small bow before sitting cross-legged on the plush armchair. "Whenever you are ready."

Qui-Gon settled back into a comfortable position, took three slow, deep breaths, then began.

"After Obi-Wan's arrival on the fifteenth day, Brev made his attitude very clear. I was his bitch, his Jedi bitch, and I was his to do with as he wished…"

There was a new routine – twice a day, out of the cage, exercise, washing, then mornings back in the cage with food and water set down in bowls, evenings depended on Brev.

The next two days were uneventful. Qui-Gon's new routine was followed closely. He sensed Obi-Wan being taken out in the mornings and brought back in the evenings. Kneeling at Brev and Gerdeth's feet, being hand fed, doing blow jobs. End of the second day, a long finger fuck over the horse, then an anal plug.

"I feel like I am being slowly dehumanized. Dnaz is impersonal, but I always feel like I'm a pet, an animal, being exercised, cleaned and fed. After that second day, I have to wear the plug whenever I'm in the cell, but I feel grateful to Dnaz for the care he uses taking it out and putting it in. The third day I'm schooled again …"

Punishment for not eating, lashes, 'manners', obey Gerdeth as well or be punished. 'Yes, sir. Please may I have the biscuit, sir.' Blow jobs for both. Three more days of 'normal routine' with blow jobs. Worked on inner wall, watching guards.

"I have just finished on the treadmill when Brev comes in a little earlier than usual. My gut twists when I realize he is in a bad mood, even snapping at Gerdeth. I am washed, put in the humbler… "

Kneels under table, Brev's cock in mouth, dropped cock, dragged over to horse, humbler removed and arms and legs chained to horse.

"I'm horrified because I know what's coming next. Bent over that damned thing, I can't move. I try to relax but tense up when cold lube is jammed into my ass and just moments later he shoves his cock into me. I can't breathe. Force, it's so hard, he is viciously fucking me, again and again. It hurts… I'm so vulnerable… it's humiliating and I feel utterly degraded. Again and again, his hands on my hips, so deep his balls keep hitting my ass. I close my eyes, try to block it all out, force myself to keep breathing. He finally finishes and pulls out. I'm sore, I feel bruises forming, it feels like there is semen dripping out of me. Brev just zips his fly and goes back to eat, leaving me chained there. I feel like an object, used and tossed aside until he wants me again…"

After eating, Brev comes back to fuck him again. Has to suck Gerdeth at the same time. Brev taunts him afterward.

Qui-Gon had to stop for a moment. He took a few sips of tea, several deep breaths.

"That night, I'm curled up in my bunk. I snap at Obi-Wan when we talk early the next morning. I know he is worried, but I'm still hurting, feeling brutalized and embarrassed. I feel bad about shutting him off, but worse about myself…"

A 'normal' ten days followed. Mornings always the same. Evenings, most nights Brev or Brev and Gerdeth were there. If it was just Brev, there was a long, leisurely fuck over the horse. Other nights fellate both of them.

"I spend a lot of time alone in the cell, hours upon hours. My nightly talks with Obi-Wan are wonderful, and I thank the Force that we have our special link. I realize that those talks are too wonderful, it's harder and harder to get back into focus after each one, so I deliberately keep them short. Boredom is actually getting to be a big problem. I keep track of all the information Obi-Wan brings me and I watch the guards when they're there. I keep wondering about Dnaz – he's adamant about having things done right, but I'm grateful for that because he doesn't let the other guards mess with me. He tells me not do stupid things. I don't like to move around too much in the cell – that damned plug definitely makes its presence known. Just to kill some time, I start working up a course description and syllabus for a dream course I'd always wanted to teach combining philosophy and negotiating…"

Evening of the tenth day, Brev comes in alone. Fucks me, eats, then another long slow fuck. Going away on business, be a good bitch. Next four days just the usual twice-a-day routine. The fifth evening tables, chairs and coldboxes being brought in, taken out of cell a little early, put through exercises and washing, but then put on leash and kneel to wait for Brev.

"And then…" Qui-Gon had such a vivid flashback of the X frame that he had to stop, his stomach churning. He opened his eyes, waved off questions and got a fresh cup of tea. After several sips, he felt ready to continue.

"Brev and Gerdeth come in. Brev seems to be in a really good mood, and I'm sure that means something bad for me…"

Time for a party. New object, X frame with large metal phallus. I'm to be centerpiece and then the reward for two of his men.

"I'm dismayed, almost paralyzed with fear. I think I'm going throw up. I hear myself saying 'I can't do that' even though I know I shouldn't."

Brev's not happy but apparently planned for my reaction. Obi-Wan in cell next door. Two of his goons beat him, then strip his coverall down.

"I can't let him hurt Obi-Wan, I can't. I go down on my knees and beg him to stop. I'll do anything, whatever you want. I'll be a good bitch, sir…"

Qui-Gon's throat seizes up and he leans forward. He breathes hard, trying to get his composure back.

_I'm here. Let me help._

Qui-Gon looked sideways. Obi-Wan was holding his hand out. Qui-Gon took it, held it tight.

"Do we need to stop, Qui-Gon? It's alright." Peloss's expression was open, compassion and re-assurance clear. "You've already covered a tremendous amount."

"No. Please." Qui-Gon swallowed, leaned back. "I need to do this."

"Very well. Whenever you're ready."

Qui-Gon forced his muscles to unclench, but did not let go of Obi-Wan's hand. He nodded.

"Brev demands to know what I am. I am your bitch, sir, your Jedi bitch…"

Mounted on the X frame phallus, wrists and ankles locked in place. Dig deep to strengthen the wall and hide behind it. Just breathe. It's just my body, not me. Hours that seem like an unending nightmare, thirty people in room. Forced erection with vibration and cream. Finally unmounted, crawl down the table, blow job, bent over table and fucked, chants of 'fuck him harder'. Back to Brev and kneel. Party over, moved to horse.

"Brev punishes me for disobeying earlier. Twelve lashes with a leather strap, really hard. Then he fucks me, fast, brutal. I'm done, I can't move, I can't feel, just… completely done. Two of the guards carry me across the floor to get cleaned. Dnaz takes care of me…"

Back to cell. Dnaz warns him about how bad Brev can get. Talk to Obi-Wan, only tells him a little.

"I'm sorry about that night, Obi-Wan. I was in very bad shape, but I didn't want you to be worrying, too. That would have made me feel even worse."

"I understand. What happened to me makes a lot more sense now."

Qui-Gon nodded.

"Another ten days of what I think of as the 'normal routine'. Evenings I know I'll be fucked, have to give blow jobs, sometimes both. I'm getting very good at sliding off into my inner headspace. That helps a lot, but I'm still aware of what's done to me…"

Making great progress on syllabus, talking with Obi-Wan still the best part of the day. That tenth night remembers Obi-Wan as being more excited than usual.

"I'm very proud of the progress he's making in getting information, but also worried about risks. I don't want to dampen his spirits, so I still hide the worst abuse. I find it hard to share Obi-Wan's optimism. Dnaz is still incredibly vigilant…"

Three more days of the usual. The fourth day, Brev didn't show up, and Obi-Wan tells me there is a lot of activity preparing ships and he managed to get into the ducts on a repair job.

"The next morning, I see Brev come in. My gut clenches; I know it's bad news when anything different happens. I'm put over the horse…"

Brev fucks him, decides his bitch needs a reminder, strapped down tight on horse with dildo in ass. Has to stay all day, but Dnaz does his best to make it bearable.

"Six more days without Brev. Boring, but I'd rather that than the alternative. That seventh night, things get interesting again…"

Obi-Wan tells him he's being pulled out of the cell, everyone is pulled out, ships are coming back, some with damage and casualties. Several hours later, early morning and only Obi-Wan taken back to cell.

"I don't like it when I know something unusual is happening. I should be sleepy, it must be around second or third hour, but I feel edgy and pace for a while, then stand still when the door opens. I only see one guard, the youngest one, he's yawning, he gets the key and leash from wall pegs…"

Leashed, kneel in front of dais. Brev and Gerdeth come in, hears the guard tell Brev that Dnaz is helping with casualties. Brev and Gerdeth drink, gloat, bring out trophies.

"The first lightsaber is bad enough. It's clear what Brev had been doing and it hurts that we were no closer to stopping him than before I got caught. Then he brings out a second lightsaber and a wave of pain washes over me, I feel bile in the back of my throat and it's hard to breathe. I know this one. It's Master Th'shon's. I'd known him for twenty years, an incredibly kind and gentle being. Brev notices my reaction and I snap back, though I can barely get the words out."

Brev taunts him, realizes that the lightsaber is a strange configuration, can't turn it on.

"That's when I get this really crazy thought. An impossible thought and it would be the longest of long shots, but Dnaz isn't there and I figure that by now I have a pretty good idea of how their minds work. I'm desperate enough to try it. It will mean humiliating myself even more than usual, but if it works…"

Gerdeth was examining lightsaber. Qui-Gon knows how it works. He barks at them, taunts them they are too stupid to figure out the lightsaber. Brev replies, backhands Qui-Gon. Gerdeth suggests there's one thing the lightsaber is good for. Pushes Qui-Gon onto his hands and knees, takes out the anal plug.

"I know I have to make them think I'm afraid. That part's not hard. I know I have a fifty-fifty chance of killing myself if I'm not lucky, but I have to go forward. I play up to them, cringe and beg them not to do it."

Brev laughs, opens his pants. 

"I'm whining and begging that's it too big, apologizing on my belly, but it's going the way I hoped it would. Now if the Force only hears my pleas…"

Sucks Brev's cock as Gerdeth slowly pushes the lightsaber in.

"I feel it going in, damn it IS big and it hurts, but I wait. I keep working on Brev's cock, moaning and whimpering, and his cock gets hard. It hurts, Force, the damned thing is bigger than anything I've ever had to deal with, but I wait. I can tell Brev is getting close, Gerdeth slams the lightsaber home the last couple of inches and he's slapping my ass. It's time, I send up a prayer to the Force. I clench as hard as I can around the edge of the knob. I wait, wait, wait and finally hear that wonderful sound, that beautiful lightsaber igniting and I bite down as hard as I can on Brev's cock."

Gerdeth is dead, Brev is on the floor bleeding, Qui-Gon takes out the guard, then a huge backhand to Brev as he's trying to get the collar's shock controller. He takes out the lightsaber, frees Obi-Wan, Dnaz comes in and they take him with them. They escape in one of Brev's ships.

Qui-Gon opened his eyes and slumped. He felt exhausted, physically and emotionally.

"Everything else is in the mission report. We contacted the Temple, set up the trap, we were rescued and Brev Wortok is sitting in prison waiting for a trial."

"That was a remarkable achievement, Qui-Gon." Peloss stood up and retrieved a couple of bottles from a small coldbox beside her desk. They brought them over. "This is a restorative. I want you both to drink these and we'll sit here quietly for a while. Just relax, breathe and don't try to think."

Qui-Gon sat up a little to reach for the bottle and realized he was still holding Obi-Wan's hand. His mate was pale and staring down at the floor.

"Obi-Wan, are you alright?" Qui-Gon squeezed his hand a little.

"Uh, just trying to take it all in." Obi-Wan shook himself. He sucked in a deep breath before accepting a bottle from Peloss, then drank it down in a long chug.

Qui-Gon took his own bottle, but drank it more slowly. It was cool, a soothing pleasure for his throat, and it seemed to send a serene energy washing through him as he drained the bottle.

It was pleasant to drift in the soft quiet. Qui-Gon felt the worst of his now-jagged nerves beginning to calm a little. He closed his eyes, concentrating on the feeling of Obi-Wan's hand in his.

"You were right."

Qui-Gon opened his eyes as he turned his head. "About what?"

"Not telling me everything that was really going on. I suspected, and was irritated and worried, but if I'd known the full extent of what they were doing to you, I don't believe I could have focused nearly so well on trying to escape." He sighed. "I didn't appreciate it at the time, but it was the right thing to do, whatever your reasons were."

"It's alright. I did it for my own selfish reasons."

"Well, at least it's over. We'll both work our way back."

"Yes, we will." Qui-Gon smiled.

Peloss let them rest for another twenty minutes.

"How are you feeling, Qui-Gon?"

"Tired. Physically and emotionally. I'm pretty sure this is what it's like after a herd of banthas has run over you. But I also feel a sense of relief." He paused a moment, frowning. "It's sort of like the feeling when you've been on a long, hard mission and you can finally see the end in sight. There's still more to accomplish, but there's a light now."

"That is good. What you just accomplished was incredibly amazing. If I had known how extensive the issues were, I'm not sure I would have allowed this, but I could see the changes in your aura, bright pain, dark despair, both slowly dissipating around the edges. Their cores are still there, but I can see the progress. For the moment, I am concerned with your immediate recovery. There is a distinct possibility that you will have short-term issues with sleeping, intense memories and anxiety. I want you to take a day off from therapy – stay busy, especially with the younger initiates if you can as their presence seems to be particularly soothing for you. Try to meditate again. Tonight, I want the two of you to take a long walk in the gardens, nothing taxing. I will give both of you some bottles of the restorative. They are not specifically sleep aids, but they should help you relax."

"Should I listen to the recording tomorrow night?"

"Given the intensity of what you just did, I believe we can let that go. I want you to be recovered when we do the next repetition the day after tomorrow. If there are no further questions, you may go. Please make sure you eat tonight, even if it just soup."

*** *** ***

After dinner and the prescribed walk, the two men went back to their respective quarters. Qui-Gon was still feeling the effects of the restorative and was able to read for a while. He could feel the fuzzy, distracted low hum of their bond, which probably meant Obi-Wan was studying. As the evening wore on, Qui-Gon began to feel restless. He tossed the novel aside and began pacing. He was still glad he had pushed through to examine everything that had happened to him, but now he was starting to feel like he had a jittery hangover.

_Obi-Wan. May I come over. He didn't add that he was standing outside the door._

_Of course._

Qui-Gon stood, shifting his weight back and forth. Finally, he opened the door and stepped inside.

Obi-Wan smiled, pushing aside one of the many datapads on the table.

"I'm sorry, it looks like you still have a great deal of work to do. I can come back later."

"No, your timing is great. I need a break - Orjolonek is dry reading." Obi-Wan stood and stretched.

"Master Orjolonek was the best negotiator of his generation." Qui-Gon's tone was a touch indignant. "His treaty on Mavert is still a masterpiece –"

"And still dry-as-Tatooine reading." Obi-Wan grinned and came forward to take Qui-Gon's hand. "Aside from a lot of alcohol, I know one thing that would help," he added slyly.

Qui-Gon was enjoying the touch of his mate's hand too much to sense the trap. "And what would that be?"

"Having another master negotiator read it to me."

"Uh. Well." Qui-Gon dithered a moment before giving in. "I suppose I could do that. For a little while."

"Excellent. We can sit on the sofa. Take your boots off, I'll get us a couple of bottles of water to keep the dust down and we can get started."

Before he knew it, Qui-Gon was ensconced on the sofa next to his mate. He read while Obi-Wan took notes and asked questions. Qui-Gon refused to admit that the revered master's writing was more pedantic than he had remembered, and he began inserting occasional comments of his own. They got into a lively back-and-forth that ended with Qui-Gon's final triumphant assertion of a point and Obi-Wan's snarky rejoinder. They both laughed.

Qui-Gon took Obi-Wan's hand and brushed a dry kiss across his knuckles.

"I have missed this tremendously." He looked at Obi-Wan. "I have missed you so much, my love."

"As have I." A wistful little smile teased Obi-Wan's lips.

Qui-Gon started to reply, but instead a huge yawn cracked his jaw. "Sorry," he said a bit sheepishly. "I guess it's been a long day. I think I'd better try to get some sleep."

"Do you have to go?"

Qui-Gon froze. Did he? Should he? Could he… stay?

"I'm not asking that we sleep together and I don't want to do anything that would make you uncomfortable. But after today, I'm only starting to imagine the nightmare you lived through." Obi-Wan ran a gentle finger across the back of his mate's hand. "I just… let me guard your dreams tonight, as you did so many times for me when I was troubled."

Qui-Gon swallowed hard. He wanted to stay; with his defenses down, he was already feeling sharp, icy fingers waiting in the darkness of the dream world.

"I don't want to be a burden…"

"Banthashit. You will never be a burden to me, Qui-Gon. Please don't be your usual stubborn, cantankerous self. I want to do this for you."

"Well, when you put it so charmingly, I suppose I could give it a try." Qui-Gon managed a half-smile.

"Good." Obi-Wan stood up and briskly gave orders. "You can use the fresher first while I tidy up. I've still got some studying to do, so we'll get you comfy here on the sofa." He waved a hand to shoo his mate along.

Bemused, Qui-Gon did as he was directed, grumbling half-heartedly about 'pushy young knights'. He stopped at the door to the fresher.

"Obi-Wan."

"What?" came a voice from the kitchenette.

"There are two toothbrushes in here." And two still in my fresher, Qui-Gon realized belatedly.

Obi-Wan came partway into the common room. "Of course."

Qui-Gon turned around. "What do you mean, 'of course'?"

"Because I knew you would need it one of these days."

"Oh."

*** *** ***

Qui-Gon yawned and stretched, befuddled for a few moments about his location. He was still on the sofa in Obi-Wan's quarters, warm and happy.

They had been fortunate that the sofa was long enough for Qui-Gon to lie down with his head on a pillow beside Obi-Wan's hip. Qui-Gon had been tentative about getting settled, shifting around several times as his mate patiently waited. Finally, he was comfortable on his side, back to the sofa and one of Obi-Wan's hands resting on his shoulder. He had let his shields down enough for Obi-Wan to enter and place a watching guard, then gradually drifted off to sleep.

"Good morning. Thought you might like some breakfast." Obi-Wan put a plate of sweet rolls and two bowls of grain cereals on the table. "Tea will be ready in a minute." He came over to kneel by the sofa. "How are you?"

"Better than I have been for a long time." Qui-Gon daringly reached out to run two fingers along Obi-Wan's face. "Thank you."

"You are most welcome." Obi-Wan caught the straying hand and kissed the back lightly.

They had breakfast together, then Qui-Gon returned to his quarters. There was a message light on his terminal – the Creche Master had a person out and wanted to know if Qui-Gon could help.

Although it was a duty that not everyone cared for, Qui-Gon spent a blissful day on what was jokingly referred to as 'hug and lug'. The babies and toddlers needed physical contact to assist their development, so he dove in, hugging, carrying, rocking, playing and napping. He didn't mind the accompanying diaper changing, bathing or soothing of fussy 'new teethers'. By the end of the afternoon, he felt refreshed and renewed in the gentle Force presence.

After a late dinner in the refectory, Qui-Gon somehow found himself back in Obi-Wan's quarters for another round of advanced-negotiations reading and arguing. And he didn't mind at all spending the night on the sofa next to Obi-Wan as he finished his readings.

*** *** ***

The next several days were not nearly as happy. Either in the morning or afternoon, depending on his other tasks, Qui-Gon was back in Peloss's office. He would grind his way through the whole recitation, still pausing for an occasional break, still feeling drained after each time. Every night he would listen to the recording, then go out for a long run to help release the accumulated tension, anger and frustration so he could try to sleep. The only bright spot was that the healers had begun removing the tattoos on his back – those were much lighter now and he was looking forward to the day they were all gone.

It was, unfortunately, also a particularly busy time for Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon was reluctant to further intrude on his obligations for his class and the several students he was now tutoring. He missed his mate's presence and found himself yearning more and more to get back together, but still uncertain if he was ready.

Their schedules finally came together at one of Master Bqein's lightsaber classes. He had enlisted several masters and knights to spar individually; Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan were to spar as a team against two knights whose egos had allegedly been inflated by victories in the last Temple tournaments.

"I remember watching them." Obi-Wan was checking his lightsaber and turning it down to training level. "They are good, but the tall one relies too heavily on a left lead. They both seemed to get overconfident and a little sloppy on defense if they thought they were winning easily."

"Then I suggest we let them think they are winning for a while." Qui-Gon winked.

"You are wicked, Master Jinn."

"I am in the mood for some bashing, as the good Master Bqein would say."

Obi-Wan grinned and led the way out to the middle of the floor.

Bquien announced the bout, reminded them it was being recorded for later review and gave the starting signal. The two Jedi toned down their attack and mostly defended as they evaluated their opponents.

Obi-Wan's analysis had been correct; the longer the match went on, the more overconfident the two knights became and the sloppier their defense.

_Qui-Gon, shall we make this more interesting? It's getting a little boring._

_I agree. It's time to put them in their place._

Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan went into textbook mode, attacking, finessing and putting their teamwork skills on full display. They made point after point until they disarmed both of the knights, who were forced to yield with lightsabers at their throats.

They did a quick initial debrief of what they considered strengths and weaknesses, then were released so Bqein's assigned observers could do a more thorough review. They were still sweaty when they got back to the hallway outside their quarters.

"Hey, I've got some cold ales if you want to come in," said Obi-Wan.

"That would be most welcome."

They tossed their robes onto hooks. Obi-Wan pulled off his outer tunics as he headed for the kitchenette. He ran cold water over his head in the sink before coming out with two bottles.

A thrill coursed through Qui-Gon. Obi-Wan was grinning wide, bright with the intensity of success, a twinkle in his eyes and drops of water trickling down his temples. Qui-Gon felt a stirring he had been missing for far too long. He took the bottle as Obi-Wan came close, but instead of taking a drink he put it on the table and impetuously took Obi-Wan's face in both hands and kissed him.

After a brief moment of surprise, Obi-Wan kissed him back. Eagerly, hard and with abandon.

They ended up in a clinch, arms wrapped around each other, as time stopped, a magic moment of passion.

Qui-Gon was the first to come to. He pushed back, heart hammering, breathing hard, hands on Obi-Wan's shoulders.

"Force, whatever brought that on, I want more!" Obi-Wan was gasping just as hard, eyes bright, lips red.

"I need…" Qui-Gon blindly turned, his knees weak, and dropped into the closest chair. He grabbed the bottle and took a deep drink. He was still sucking in air.

Obi-Wan dragged a chair next to Qui-Gon and sat. He downed half of his ale, then thunked the bottle on the table. "So, should I be dragging you down to the salle every afternoon to bash people?" There was a smile on his lips, but concern mixed with desire in his eyes.

Qui-Gon huffed a laugh. He felt the concern and the desire thrumming through their bond, and it amplified his own feelings. "I wish it were that simple." He reached out and took Obi-Wan's hand. "I think I'm getting closer, though."

"I don't want to be intrusive, but would it help if I came to some more of your sessions with Peloss?"

"Probably not." Qui-Gon rubbed his thumb in circles on the back of Obi-Wan's hand. "You've already heard what there is to hear. Now it's is just a matter of saying it over and over until it loses the power to hurt. I do appreciate the offer, however." His breathing quieted and he took another drink of ale. "I think it's a matter of time and effort. It worked with that first fifteen days; eventually it became mostly noise."

"Qui-Gon, if you are getting better, should we talk about triggers? I don't want to inadvertently do something that's going to set you off, like I did when we first got back."

"That's probably a good idea. Peloss has asked a few times about those as well." He took a drink of ale as he thought. "Licking sweat – Brev used to do that after I'd been on the treadmill. Now I find it gross. Bondage may never be something we explore as part of sexual activity." Another sip. "I think the biggest thing is that I don't know if I will ever be able to enjoy having you top from the rear. That's what Brev always did – he mounted me, fucked me, but it was always about his power, his pleasure and hurting me." He suddenly sat up straight, blinking as if a light had gone off in front of his face.

Qui-Gon turned to face Obi-Wan and gathered both of his hands between his own. "I think perhaps I have been obtuse again. Peloss has seemed like they are waiting for me to discover something, to say something and I haven't understood what their questions were intended to do. But I think… I believe that maybe I just hit on something important, important to me and to us."

"Not just the actions, but the intent?"

"Yes. Brev made it very clear from the beginning that he wanted revenge, that he was going to make me pay for all the pain he had endured in ten years of prison. He took great joy in hurting me, humiliating me, making me less than him." Qui-Gon nodded. "I need to think about this, to understand how I make that work for me." He sniffed. "First, though, I need a shower."

Obi-Wan laughed as they both stood. "You and me both."

They dropped their hands, finished the last of their ales.

Qui-Gon took the bottles to the kitchenette. As he came out, Obi-Wan was waiting, looking down at the floor.

"I suppose we both have work to do tonight, but hopefully we can get together again soon."

"Right. Umm…" Obi-Wan's voice dropped to almost a whisper, a yearning plea. "I don't suppose…."

Qui-Gon licked his lips as his heart raced again. Slowly, he put his hands on Obi-Wan's face and leaned in to place a chaste kiss upon his lips.

_A down payment, my love._

_Love you, too._

Qui-Gon stepped back, turned and left.

*** *** ***

The next morning, Qui-Gon spent several hours in the furthest part of the garden's trees. He was ostensibly doing a survey to identify areas and specific trees that needed thinning, weeding or feeding. He dutifully recorded his findings as he worked his way through the grove, but his mind was only half on the job. Qui-Gon was pondering the events of the previous afternoon.

Kissing Obi-Wan was a memory to be happily revisited. The more he considered the meaning of both the kiss and the conversation afterward, the more he felt convinced he wanted and could move faster in his therapy.

Qui-Gon's session with his Soul Healer was earlier than usual. At half past thirteen, he was seated on a couch, sipping a new tea offering. Peloss sat in her usual position. Instead of speaking, however, they sat silently studying Qui-Gon for several minutes.

"Is something wrong?" Qui-Gon finally asked.

"There has been a change in your aura. A new awareness, new questions, more points of light. Would you like to discuss this?"

"Yes. I kissed Obi-Wan yesterday."

"That is a good sign."

"We were talking afterward; if I'm getting better, Obi-Wan wanted to discuss triggers. He is understandably concerned that he might unintentionally do something that would hurt me. I mentioned licking, probably bondage, but the biggest one I could think of was being penetrated from the rear. I realized that was because it was how Brev always did it, but he did it to hurt, to demean, to demonstrate his power. I've been thinking about how I feel when I touch Obi-Wan or he touches me, and comparing that to how I felt when Brev, or even Dnaz, touched me. It comes down to intent. I could kiss Obi-Wan because it was done with love. I hated it when Brev touched me because it was done with malice."

"Excellent, Qui-Gon. That is a very important step in your recovery that I was hoping you would come to on your own."

"Sometimes it takes me a while, but I can eventually get there." Qui-Gon smiled and gave a shrug of self-deprecation.

"You are a very intelligent being, Qui-Gon. We are, however, dealing with an exceptionally traumatic experience. That can certainly impact your perceptions."

"I've also been thinking about my progress. I believe I have made positive steps – my inner wall is greatly diminished, I can meditate successfully most of the time, I have been able to initiate limited physical contact with Obi-Wan. I feel better about my body as the tattoos are coming off."

"But there are still difficulties to overcome, yes?"

"Yes." Qui-Gon took a slow breath before continuing. "I still have not fully reclaimed my own body. There are still specific incidents that are difficult for me to talk about. There are still times when I feel anxious, have trouble sleeping on my own or just want to hide away."

"You will never forget what happened to you, and you might have flashbacks, but the exposure therapy will help you to reclaim your agency. I can definitely see the progress you have already made, but it does take time."

"As I understand it, the point of what we are doing is desensitization, like saying a word over and over until it no longer has meaning. So, to make this go faster, I want to do more. I want to listen to the recording twice a day, have a daily session, keep at it until I'm ready to move on."

"What you are asking will be difficult. You are still experiencing problems with certain parts of the recitation."

"Yes, I know. But I want to try."

Peloss was silent for a moment, eyes half-closed in apparent thought. "Is this really about you? Or about Obi-Wan?"

"It is about me, it is about Obi-Wan and it is about the 'us' that Obi-Wan and I are together. I will not be whole again until there is 'us' again."

"Have you discussed this with Obi-Wan?"

"No. Should I? He's not directly involved, and I don't like to bother Obi-Wan when he's so busy."

Peloss crossed their arms. "Qui-Gon Jinn, you are a grown man and a Jedi master. Apart from your therapy issues, if you want an 'us', you have to work on that 'us'. An 'us' is not just about intimacy in bed, it is about intimacy in your lives. You are not only just six doors away, you have a telepathic link. Are you telling me the two of you can't find one minute to say good morning, good night or ten minutes to have a cup of tea, even if you're only sharing space reading datapads? And that you did not even consider telling him you are about to try to immerse yourself in exposure that could leave you feeling like a dead fish in the desert?"

"Umm, I guess I didn't think of it like that," said Qui-Gon meekly. It was the first time they had really dressed him down and he could feel the heat of embarrassment in his cheeks. "I do tell him I love him," he added defensively, but then deflated. "I suppose I could do that more often, though." He could see them raise an eyebrow that clearly signified their thoughts about male beings.

"Well, that's a start." Peloss shook their head a little as they dropped their arms. "If you are going to increase the intensity of your exposure, somebody needs to be aware of what you are doing and making sure that you are eating and taking care of yourself. Would you rather that be Obi-Wan or me?"

"Obi-Wan, please. I'll find him and speak with him this afternoon."

"Very well. Have some more tea and at least three of the chocolate biscuits. Those have the highest energy content. We'll begin when you're ready."

*** *** ***

Qui-Gon was tired after the session, but thought it wasn't as bad as earlier sessions. He contacted Obi-Wan and they arranged to meet in the refectory for a late dinner. He filled in the rest of the afternoon with a few hours of hug and lug, for which volunteers were always welcome.

Over a meal of salad, fish and tubers, Qui-Gon explained his plan and how Peloss had chewed him out for not doing a better job of working on their relationship.

"First off, this increased intensity. Is this safe? Will you be able to deal with it?"

"Safe, yes, if I take care of myself and get help if I need it. Hard, yes, but I want this very much so I'll make this work."

"Second, I want it to work, too, but the next couple of tens are going to be tight on time. Projects and exams are coming up, not just for me but for the students I'm tutoring. And we need to squeeze some time in for us, sparring, katas or running. May I make a suggestion?"

"Of course."

"There are two sleeping rooms in my quarters. Would you like to move in for a while? I don't mind taking the padawan room, and it would be easier to help if you're having problems at night. There's just the one fresher, but I'm sure we can work that out. It's not like we didn't have that same arrangement for years."

"That's a very sensible plan. Thank you for offering. And I've been thinking about what Peloss said about working on 'us'. We could be doing more of the little things, new habits and such."

"I think she's right. We didn't get very much time together after the bonding ceremony before we got sent out, so I like the idea of kind of a reset. I'll think about some things we can do." Obi-Wan looked at the chrono on the wall. "Sorry, got one of my problem students tonight. Poor thing is having a terrible time in math, so I might be a while if you want to bring some things over. Just dump my stuff in the other room." He drained the last of his juice. "See you later."

The new living arrangements were working well. They created new routines, not just greetings, but rising early enough for a short meditation and then eating breakfast together. Qui-Gon surprised Obi-Wan with a soft good-bye kiss when he departed and another before they went to bed.

The increased exposure therapy was harder than Qui-Gon had envisioned. The recorded version was over an hour long, which meant an hour morning and night plus the even longer afternoon session when Peloss encouraged him to add more detail and discuss his feelings. It was emotionally taxing more than a physical problem, but he began having dreams and flashbacks the second night. Obi-Wan dragged a chair over by the bed and held his hand or stroked his face until he quieted.

Qui-Gon persisted under Peloss's watchful eye and Obi-Wan's vigilant care. By the fifth day he finally made it through a late-afternoon recitation without breaking once except for an occasional sip of tea to sooth his throat. He returned to their quarters, eager to pass on the news of his progress, but found Obi-Wan scowling and cursing at the datapads strung across the table.

"Problem?"

"It's this damned project for the negotiations class. I've been over and over it and I can't get anywhere near the solution we're supposed to come up with. I've got to be missing something somewhere."

"I've had that class. Would you like some tutoring help?"

"I'll take anything I can get." Obi-Wan shoved datapads at his mate as he sat down at the table.

Qui-Gon studied the requirements, parameters and resources provided for several minutes. "I remember this one and it is a little tricky. Let's work on it."

For an hour, Qui-Gon provided questions to help guide Obi-Wan toward his own answer. He was rewarded eventually with a heartfelt groan and "No wonder I wasn't getting anywhere. Now it makes sense."

They stopped to fix sandwiches and fruit for dinner, then Obi-Wan went back to work finalizing his results. Qui-Gon borrowed a new book that had been added to the course and went to the sofa to read.

It was almost two hours before Obi-Wan was satisfied that he had everything ready to hand in. He came over to the sofa and practically dropped down next to his mate.

They sat close and held hands as they talked of things they had going on in their lives. Qui-Gon was finally able to announce his milestone in therapy, but he realized that Obi-Wan had fallen asleep. He watched him quietly breathing for several minutes, then reached up to lightly run a finger down one cheek. He carefully got up and with a little help from the Force got Obi-Wan to his bed.

Qui-Gon leaned over to take off Obi-Wan's tunic, but he flinched and dropped it. He stood for a minute, cursing to himself. Evidently he wasn't quite ready yet. He settled for a light kiss on Obi-Wan's forehead and putting a blanket over him.

"Soon, my love. Soon," he whispered.

*** *** ***

Seven more days. Again and again and again and again and again.

"Brev fucked me over the horse again. He raped me."

"I had to suck Gerdeth's cock at the table. I think Brev took showers more often, because his cock usually tasted better."

"The normal days weren't so bad most of the time. My inner wall was good. When it was just Brev, he usually wanted a nice long fuck, nothing fancy, nothing special. When he was in the right mood, he could keep fucking for quite a while. I just tried to tune him out."

"Even toward the end, I still hated it when he called me his Jedi bitch, but I dealt with it. I think when I was on my knees, having to say 'I am your bitch, sir', or 'I am your good Jedi bitch, sir', it turned him on."

"The punishment rapes were the worst. Brev fucked me brutally, hard, fast and vicious."

"Yes, he fucked me twice that night. He must have been feeling in a particularly good mood."

Qui-Gon found that he had developed almost a disassociation with the word 'fuck'.

"Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck." Qui-Gon stared down into his mug of tea. "I'm having trouble relating to that word any more. I know what it means, and I can see it happening, but it feels… blasé?"

"Indifference is a good reaction. You don't stumble over even the worst parts now. How are you sleeping?"

"Fairly well most nights. I don't remember any flashbacks for at least four days now."

"And your relationship with Obi-Wan?"

"Good. We've been doing things together when we can, little things every day, bigger things as we have time. We hold hands, sit close together, light kisses. We both like contact."

"I'd like to bring up something we talked about a while ago. You said you had been discussing triggers with Obi-Wan when you realized the difference between how others touched you. Do you still feel the same way?"

"Ah, that. Yes. Even more so, now, I think. I thought of more categories of touch. I think of incidental touch as minor touch, inconsequential, jostling in a crowd, for example. There is friendly touch, such as shaking hands or a hug, which is different from ceremonial touch, which might also include shaking hands. Then there is deep, or maybe I should call it intentional touch. That's what started me thinking – that's the touch with malice and the touch with love."

"Interesting categories. How do you feel now about intentional touch?"

Qui-Gon took a few sips of tea as he considered the question.

"Touch with malice – that is all that Brev did. His intentions were centered purely on himself and what he could do to me. That is separate in my head now. I have put that into a box and it no longer determines who I am. I think I'll need some continuing work to keep it there and find a lock for the box, but Brev Wortok does not own me and never will again."

He took another sip of tea before continuing.

"Touch with love. The best of all kinds, the basis for true intimacy between two beings. That is what I feel for Obi-Wan and what I believe he feels for me. I am comfortable with that. It is part of who I know I am and what I want to be. There are still some triggers, possibly for a long time, but I can work with that."

"Are you ready for 'us' to be complete?"

"Yes, I believe so. There is a four-day break in the training cycle coming up. I intend to find out."

*** *** ***

The Temple almost seemed to be giving a sigh of relief as the pause in training approached. A high proportion of the residents were in, teaching, or supporting a training class of some sort, so with mid-cycle tests and short-term projects out of the way, there was a palpable feeling of anticipation as beings looked forward to time off.

Qui-Gon had always enjoyed this short breather, and this time he had even more reason. Peloss had agreed to cut back his therapy sessions to every other day, with none during the break unless he felt the need. Obi-Wan was working harder than ever, especially with the students he was tutoring, but his mood had improved remarkably after Qui-Gon had requested the favor of his time for their first day off.

Early sunlight streamed in the open window of Qui-Gon's temporary room. He stretched a couple of times before blowing a big breath of contentment. He sent a tentative query over their bond, but Obi-Wan was clearly still asleep. Qui-Gon gave a little smile as he remembered how tired his mate had been the previous evening and decided to let him sleep.

Taking advantage of the quiet, Qui-Gon decided to use the fresher. Before taking a shower, he spent a few minutes standing naked in front of the long door mirror. He took careful stock of what he saw, front and back. Hair he had decided to keep relatively short for a while but a beard coming in. Lean body, wiry and strong. Tattoos gone from his back, and only a faint gray remnant left still to be removed from above his nipples. Wrinkles and scars, hard-earned, and blue eyes piercing but open.

Qui-Gon ghosted a fingertip across the faded tattoo. He let it rest on the 'J' a moment before nodding firmly and turning away.

_Good morning. It is morning, right?_

_It is, indeed._ A beautiful morning. Qui-Gon smiled as he finished cutting up fruit to add to the breakfast he was fixing.

Obi-Wan yawned, a jaw-cracking effort as he wandered from his room.

A hot stirring in his gut struck Qui-Gon as he watched his mate coming toward him. Tousled hair, dark stubble, sleepy blue-gray eyes, no shirt and sleep pants hanging low on his hips.

Force, he whispered to himself, I want that. All the little gods, do I want that. Only the memory of what he had planned for the evening stopped him from anything overt.

Obi-Wan stopped in the doorway, so Qui-Gon put down his knife and moved to give him a soft kiss with closed lips, then went back to work.

"Anything in particular on the agenda for today?" Obi-Wan scratched his head as he yawned again.

"I have a training room reserved for tenth hour, so we have plenty of time for a relaxing breakfast for a change. I'd like to do some katas this morning. After lunch, I'd like to meditate in the gardens. This evening, I'm going to fix dinner for you."

"Sounds wonderful." Obi-Wan waggled an eyebrow. "And after dinner?" he asked in a sultry tone.

"I might have a few ideas for that." Qui-Gon put on his best mysterious smile. "For now, you might want to take a shower while I finish making breakfast."

Obi-Wan wrinkled his nose. "Ever the master." He grinned as he shot an obscene finger gesture. "Cold shower for me."

Qui-Gon laughed and went back to work.

They lingered over the spread, omelets with veggies and cheese, three kinds of toast, cubed tubers, fresh fruits, juices and tea. Obi-Wan contributed several stories about the various students he had been tutoring.

In the salle, they stripped down to leggings, undertunic and bare feet. They spent two hours working on katas, starting with several simple, older katas, then several repetitions of a complicated kata that Qui-Gon had still been teaching to Obi-Wan when he was knighted.

"That was wonderful." Obi-Wan was practically glowing with satisfaction as they walked into the refectory. "I think I'm finally truly internalizing that kata."

"You have definitely improved. All of your katas were done well."

Obi-Wan glowed a bit more with the praise.

They opted for a light lunch of soup and melon slices. Plo Koon waved them over to his table so they sat with their friends. Qui-Gon was pleased that he could honestly tell Plo that he was much improved.

They took a long walk after lunch, winding their way around the gardens until they reached the far trees. Qui-Gon took them to the ancient bolarsan and they settled close together to meditate. He focused his meditation on the huge difference in his life between the time he had visited the tree after his return to Coruscant and today. He felt he had come a long way on a difficult path and was content with his progress.

The afternoon was hot but the shade under the tree was pleasant, so they stayed outside, side by side, holding hands, and chatted. Qui-Gon couldn't help the growing anticipation he felt. Judging by the edgy hum of their bond, he was pretty sure his mate was growing hopeful of how their evening might turn out.

It took more and more effort for Qui-Gon to suppress his feelings as they had a slow, candle-lit dinner. He had prepared some of Obi-Wan's favorites, including long, sweet sticks of sensafruit for dessert.

The candles were burning low as Obi-Wan picked up one of the finger-thick strands. He stared at Qui-Gon, eyes half-closed, as he leisurely ran his tongue along its length. Up one side, down the other, and back.

Qui-Gon swallowed hard as Obi-Wan's provocation was accompanied by a surge of hot lust across their bond. He dug his fingers into the edges of the chair's seat as his cock twitched in a way that sent his heart racing.

"Qui-Gon, I love you." Obi-Wan put the fruit down. His voice was husky. "I love you, but I don't want to hurt you. Am I wanting something you're ready to give, or should I back off? I'll do whatever you need."

"I want..." Qui-Gon's throat was tight and he couldn't get any more words out. He took a few deep breaths and a sip of water. He stood up, waited a moment for his wobbly knees to recover and walked around the table. He drew Obi-Wan to his feet and put his hands on his mate's shoulders.

"Obi-Wan, I love you. I love you so much it hurts." He put a finger on Obi-Wan's lips. "I don't want to have sex with you. I don't want to fuck you. I don't want you to fuck me." He licked his lower lip as he saw the disappointment in Obi-Wan's eyes. "What I want is to make love to you. Long, sweet, take-me-to-the-Force love."

Obi-Wan's eyes shot wide as Qui-Gon pulled him close and captured his mouth in a kiss. He eagerly wrapped his arms around Qui-Gon and returned the kiss with vigor. The bond flared.

Eventually they stopped to breathe and pulled back, still embracing.

"That was… good." Qui-Gon was pulling in air through his nose.

"Yeah. Good." Obi-Wan wasn't doing much better. His chest heaved. He waved a hand vaguely at the table. "We should clean up…"

Qui-Gon leaned in, almost nose to nose. "Fuck the dishes."

Obi-Wan almost choked as he laughed. "Master Jinn, such language." He caught his breath. "Um, I enthusiastically endorse your plans for the evening, but I think a visit to the fresher is in order first. I had a lot of wine."

"Oh. Right." A warning from his own bladder convinced him that was a very good idea. "Alright. You first."

Obi-Wan grabbed a quick kiss before breaking away with a huge grin, whistling as he hurried away.

Qui-Gon cleared away most of the dishes as he waited, leaving stacks in the sink and on the counter. He saw that Obi-Wan had taken off his boots before coming out.

"Wait for me."

Qui-Gon made a quick visit to the fresher and came out carrying his boots as well. He noticed that Obi-Wan had cleared the rest of the dishes and was standing by the table. His breath caught as he stared at Obi-Wan, the full reality of what they were about to do hitting him. He pulled in a very deep breath and held it for several seconds before releasing it. He held out a hand.

Obi-Wan glided forward, that sensuous hip movement that had driven Qui-Gon to distraction before Obi-Wan's knighting. He had a smile on his lips and a glint in his eyes.

Qui-Gon caught his hand and led him through the door to his sleeping room. He tossed aside his boots and kept going to the bed. He crawled up onto it and pulled Obi-Wan down to join him. They ended up on their sides facing each other.

"So good…" murmured Qui-Gon, body-to-body heat sending fire through his veins.

They kissed, gently at first, but quickly escalating into hard busses with exploring tongues.

Obi-Wan let Qui-Gon take the lead in moving further, letting his hands stay on his mate's back, rubbing gentle circles.

Qui-Gon moved Obi-Wan onto his back and shifted to kiss forehead, eyes, cheeks. He dipped his tongue into Obi-Wan's ear, drawing a gasp. He nuzzled the base of his throat and dipped his tongue beneath the fabric of his undertunic. He reveled in the clean smell, the sound of his heart beating and the feel of smooth skin under his tongue.

Qui-Gon sat up, then slipped his fingers under Obi-Wan's undertunic. He pulled the fabric up and off his willing partner. He guided Obi-Wan's hands to remove his own garment, then lay down on top of him.

The flesh to flesh contact drew moans from both men. They embraced tightly and kissed some more, hands beginning to roam.

Qui-Gon had hoped for an extended session, but he could already feel his cock filling. He released Obi-Wan, took some quieting breaths, then dove in to kiss and mouth his nipples and kiss his way down his belly, which rippled under his touch.

Obi-Wan flipped Qui-Gon and began returning the kisses. First his face, then kissing and biting his nipples until they were hard. With a look, he asked for permission before kissing each letter of the faded tattoos.

"Hot… so hot." Qui-Gon moaned as Obi-Wan ran fingers down his sides while he dipped his tongue into Qui-Gon's navel.

Obi-Wan leaned on an elbow as he let a hand rest, barely there, on Qui-Gon's groin.

"Looks like something wants to join the fun," he drawled. He squeezed just enough to draw a groan from his mate.

"Bastard," huffed Qui-Gon. He lunged up enough to push Obi-Wan onto his back. He grabbed the waistline of his pants and pulled them, growling as Obi-Wan lifted his hips with a laugh. He tossed the pants off the bed, then stopped short, swallowing hard as Obi-Wan's cock sprang upward to proudly salute him.

"Like what you see?" Obi-Wan shifted his hips to waggle his erection. While Qui-Gon was still staring greedily, he attacked his mate and divested him of his leggings without, admittedly, too much of a fight.

It was Obi-Wan's turn to stare. The magnificent erection of the master jedi was truly a sight to behold – tall like its owner, solid, and a glistening tip.

Mutual need made two hands reach out simultaneously to grasp each other's phallus.

Qui-Gon groaned, a deep, throaty sound. The bond burst with light, a strobing, flashing rainbow of colors. He felt his heart racing and blood thundered in his ears.

"Need you," he gasped. "Obi-Wan, please… need to be in you."

"Anything for you, love."

Qui-Gon dug under a pillow and found the tube of lube.

Obi-Wan took the other pillow, put it under his hips and opened his legs.

Qui-Gon shuffled between Obi-Wan's knees, leaned forward, balancing on his arms and kissed Obi-Wan. His motion dropped his cock onto Obi-Wan's and they both groaned at the contact.

"Take me, love," Obi-Wan moaned as he tried to pull Qui-Gon closer.

Qui-Gon kissed him again, dropping down into full-body contact, rubbing their groins together. Blind lust pulled him back to his knees and he grabbed the lube, flipping it open and squeezing a generous glop onto his fingers. He began stretching Obi-Wan, fingers gentle, other hand rubbing his belly, occasionally sneaking a stroke of cock or balls.

More lube, this time slicking his cock, which was dripping precum. He spread Obi-Wan's legs a little wider, then held the tip of his cock at Obi-Wan's opening.

"Love you," he mouthed, sending more love over their bond, before pushing into his mate's body.

Qui-Gon felt his mind explode as the months of anguish were wiped out in burning flames. His blood was on fire, his world narrowed to two bodies, two minds with a single driving imperative.

Further and further Qui-Gon penetrated, relentless, sucked into needy flesh, he submerged into bliss until he could go no further and his balls slapped against Obi-Wan's ass.

Balanced on his arms again, Qui-Gon leaned down, trapping Obi-Wan's cock against his belly, lavishing kisses on his lips, his face, his neck. He was barely aware when Obi-Wan wrapped his legs around him.

"Move… take me with you," moaned Obi-Wan, trying to rock his hips. A spike of urgency flooded their bond.

Qui-Gon pulled himself back up, still watching Obi-Wan's face. He got a hard grip on Obi-Wan's hips and began to pull back.

They set up a driving harmony, thrusting cock met by bucking hips, in, out, again and again.

"Yes!"

"Harder!"

"More!"

Sweat flying, hearts pounding in rhythm, bodies rocking, frenzied need exclaimed in cries and moans.

Qui-Gon took Obi-Wan's cock in a lubed fist, stroking as he plunged in, sending Obi-Wan into a paroxysm of raw rapture as he raked his sweet spot with every impalement.

They rushed to the knife-edge of delirium. Held there for an eternity as bodies stiffened, mouths screamed.

Stars nova'd and they crashed into a blazing sea of ecstasy. Love and the Force surrounded them in a blanket of bliss, minds and bodies as one.

Alas, that such delightful rapture could not last forever.

Qui-Gon stirred, fitfully aware that he felt hot and sticky, but also incredibly happy. As he moved, his cock slipped from Obi-Wan's body and he shifted to his side. Almost absently he reached for towels he had stocked by the bed and slowly began cleaning them both off.

"Ummm…" Obi-Wan blinked a few times. He turned his head. "Feel wunnerf'l…"

Qui-Gon leaned over and kissed red, full lips. He smiled, realizing he probably had the same sated expression on his face.

Obi-Wan had a loopy grin. "You look really well fu-"

Qui-Gon put a finger on those lips. "I was well loved."

Their bond hummed with joy as they cuddled together, a blanket pulled up, and drifted into peaceful slumber.

finis


End file.
